Feuillemort
by haelyeon
Summary: When a messy curtain of porcelain white hair is brought into the Hokage's office, she becomes a conundrum too inconceivable to omit. A bizarre ability resembling the fabled Wood Style and a strange justu curbing the retrieval of the girl's memories awake suspicion towards possible ties to Orochimaru. (Full summary inside the story!) (Under a short-term editing!)
1. Chapter 1 - Mono no Aware

龍

 **MONO NO AWARE  
**

龍

* * *

 **SUMMARY:**

 **When a messy curtain of porcelain white hair is brought into the Hokage's office, she becomes a conundrum too inconceivable to omit. A bizarre ability resembling the fabled Wood Style and a strange justu curbing the retrieval of the girl's memories awake suspicion towards possible ties to Orochimaru. However, as her memories start to rearise piece by piece, she discovers secrets of her past and her thoughts become tangled in a battle of where her loyalties should remain.**

 **OC-centric. [GaaraxOC]**

* * *

Have you ever wondered if we are all connected? Could it be that our destinies are intertwined?

There are those that say that we are connected by the red string of fate; nonetheless, there are also those who have better things to do than worrying about such peculiar things. After all, we have family, friends and maybe even lovers who will constantly remind us that we are connected. We spend time with them, celebrate, have fun and do countless other things which tell us who we are and who is important in our lives. But as mentioned before, no one cares about details like those. It's normal. Basic. Routine.

 _But what if you can't remember who you are?_

In regard to those circumstances, your first thought would probably be something like ' _What happened?'_ or _'Who am I?'_. But the question _'Who am I?'_ is very complex, even without memory loss; indeed, if you ask someone this seemingly easy question, he'd answer with his name but a name has, in this case, not even the need to be mentioned. Rather, it's demanded, _'What kind of person are you? What is your story?'_.

But despite all of this, we are not able to answer this 'what-if' question. The situation is too extreme to give a definite answer. It cannot be told who we are if we simply cannot remember.

That was the exact scenario a young girl has happened to find herself in. In a still alleyway, the child was sitting on a barrel, not wanting to catch someone's attention just now. She wore nothing but a dress inhumed by grime and dirt, her long, white hair falling messily down her back with knots here and there. Gazing down at her bandaged feet, she wondered why they were since they didn't seem to hurt at all.

It was surely winter's time. Flocks of frozen liquid danced towards the ground in a merry dance before ultimately coming to rest and uniting to build a soft blanket of brilliant white. However, once they have gotten their rest, they'd mix with the dirt, creating the at her revoltingly looking slush that you would never be able to dodge when walking on a road.

She had just found herself in this place. Strangely, she could not remember anything in the slightest; in fact, it was more than absurd that her head seemed to be empty of any thoughts. As if it there were plains over plains of nothing but the grass covering the ground.

It had taken her about a minute to figure out that she has amnesia. After all, she was able to recall common knowledge, even though it took a while to remember certain aspects of specific subjects. Then, it had taken her another minute to remember her name, or better said, what she thought her name was.

 _Ryo._

Not a common girl's name, but that wouldn't matter. She wasn't even sure if that was her name; however, the warm feeling of homage that fluttered like a bumblebee around her torso indicated that much.

There was an old, probably discarded toy, a small plush dragon, lying a few feet away. Ryuu, meaning dragon, had ringed a bell. But it still didn't sound right, so she wasn't able to call herself as such. From what she had been able to call back, it was a male name anyways.

"Ryo…" the girl softly murmured.

Not knowing whether Ryo can be used for girls or not, she just decided to take the risk. _'Better than nothing.'_

Still, neither a name nor sitting around would bring her far. Letting her eyes glance towards the fully packed Main Street (at least she thought it was), she observed all kinds of people mixing perfectly into the crowd. Merchants shouting their offers, mothers walking with children and in the shadows, she was able to catch a glimpse of a person with a white animal mask.

It was becoming rather cold and she hugged herself to prevent even the smallest heat wave of her body from escaping. Still, every droplet of ice that managed to land on her skin sent tingles through over it, making her shiver not only from the smooth drafts.

If she wanted to continue, or rather start her life anew, she'd have to go out of the deserted side street. It wasn't fully understood what drove her towards it but, suspecting from the tingling in her abdomen, it was her stomach feeling.

…or maybe just her common sense and a stomach in need of some nutritions. Especially due to the smell of baked plums and what seemed to be cinnamon; the enticing and sweet smell, that must have originated from the street's merchants, made its way across the alley, making Ryo wish that she could not only taste it with her nose but let her taste buds be enveloped by its flavours as well.

As Ryo stepped out of the shadows, she straightaway lifted her hand to guard her eyes from the bright light which had found no way into the place brimful of darkness. The first thing that was noticed by her, was the massive mountain range at the very end of the street. Beautifully crafted into the rock were the faces of four men which had to have made an impact on the city she was enclosed by. They must have been late leaders, elders or someone else who holds importance.

The second thing she saw, was a shop selling weapons; Shuriken, Kunai and a few other objects as well (some, she couldn't identify) were arranged in order. She also looked upon some clothes which were hanging in the back of the shop.

 _'I must be in a ninja village'_. Ryo thought about the few clues she had gotten and settled for this theory.

A man, probably in his mid-forties, managed to interrupt her train of thoughts. With his head hung low and visage buried underneath a thick scarf, it was as if time itself was trying to catch him judging from the pace his legs were carrying him. The man was just rushing past her when his side heavily collided with hers, sending her flailing to the snow-covered ground. Catching herself with her arms, she looked towards in the man who only glanced back while continuing to walk but not without shouting in a rush, "I apologise, but I'm in a hurry!"

Putting aside the minuscule pain shooting through her body, she sat back on her knees that had reddened likewise her elbows from the sheer coldness of the snow. Deeming it safer to ignore him, she pushed herself off the ground, but stumbled over her own feet. Slightly panicked, Ryo scrambled to her feet again but was taken aback by the mass of people that seemed to have gathered. Ryo felt herself nauseating and droplets of sweat began appearing on get forehead. A sick feeling made itself known, and she immediately felt like throwing up. It was becoming harder and harder to properly breathe and her eardrums felt like exploding from all the chatter and sounds echoing in her ears.

 _Ochlophobia_. The fear of the masses of souls – or people – that left your lungs no access to the air they needed. The fear of _crowds._

As she began to fall unconscious, she observed the crowd again and begrudgingly noticed the difference between the previous look to the one she got now. While she had felt like she had been in a mega city priorly, the view she was granted through her half-closed lids showed her that there were no more people than the amount that would otherwise be expected; thus, Ryo couldn't help but feel slightly out of her min

Which wasn't _exactly_ a far fetched idea.

* * *

Asuma Sarutobi was a patient man. However, he had been waiting long enough and he was currently on his way to visit his father, the Third Hokage; he was strolling idly with a cigarette inbetween his fingers, its fine following his steps like a shadow.

For a long time, he had been asking – begging almost – his father for a team he could monitor, but was only told, _'P_ _atience is a virtue'._ Walking towards the end of the Main Street where the Hokage's Office and the Hokage Rock are located, he almost didn't notice the girl looking at his friend's favourite weapon shop. He had never seen her before, that's for sure. She had long, alabaster white hair and was wearing a dirty rag reaching a little past her knees with long, fit sleeved; she appeared delicate with a height no more than five feet.

The girl probably came from one of the local orphanages, he concluded; an orphan who was taking a walk outside her substitute home. Judging from the way she walked without a clear destination and the confounded frown reting atop her face, it was probably the first time she was without a caretaker to help her around.

Minding his own business, he resumed walking until a man hurriedly almost ran over her. The man shouted an apology and went his way, totally encompassed in his own world. Asuma decided to step in. Leaving her would have been against his morals; besides, he wouldn't be able to call himself the Hokage's son if he simply did nothing.

While he had better things to do (like debating with his father whether he gets a team or not) and an orphanage employee will come to search for her sooner than later, he might as well speed things up for everyone's benefit.

Still a few feet away, he observed her as she tried to lift her body of the ground. Due to her position – with her back toward him – he was not able to see any kind of distinguishable feature her face could have held. But that changed when she looked over her shoulder and he got a look of the panic displayed on her face: eyes wide open, mouth agape and arms wrapped around her torso as if to protect itself from lingering dangers. She went unnoticed by the folks.

Suddenly, without any beforehand warning, her body fell forward. Asuma stopped slightly in his tracks, the barely noticeable trace of smoke from his tobacco coming to a halt likewise. There wasn't much that managed to surprise so much as to render him motionless, but the moment she fell unconcious was just too unexpected to not react to. Asuma watched as spectators formed a circle around her in a fashion that only vultures would be able to.

By now, the young Sarutobi was running towards her small form. Bystanders with medical experience seemed to be already checking her pulse and undergoing a quick examination, theorising and speculating whether she passed out from the blizzard-resembling weather. As soon as they saw his approaching figure, they scurried away and gave him a quick report of the girl's current situation; he crouched down and heaved her into his arms, brushing aside the usual tenseness of the civilians.

There were still bystanders, looks of concern and curiosity being castes by them, but they quickly dispersed after Asuma used a quick handsign to bodyflicker afar.

* * *

 _Hell_.

That was the only word to describe such utterly terrible condition. Although he preferred it much more than war, it was still horrendous.

Horrendously boring, tedious _and_ monotonous, for that matter.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, also known as the Third Hokage, was currently in his office, occupied with the usual amout of his daily paperwork. A few complaints, a little more than a dozen documents asking for his approval and a ton of mission reports had to be finished before the sun would set – and they're certainly not done by themselves.

He _could_ use shadow clones, but you never know when an enemy attack might happen, and it wouldn't look good if the Hokage had chakra exhaustion because he hadn't been able to cope with his paperwork. Being renowned as _The Professor_ and hailed as _The God of Shinobi_ and yet, here he sat in an office encircled by bodyguards from the Anbu.

Pushing the stamp harder than necessary onto the paper, he regarded the fact that his position (taken only by the strongest of ninja) would need guards not with apathy but neither with gusto. Protocol is protocol, after all.

Nonetheless, in two months, this year's Genin were going to graduate, thus enlarging the paperwork even more than usual.

Disregarding the fact that he didn't support favouritism, he had especially high hopes for the rookies. Not only was the new generation of the _Ino-Shika-Cho_ Formation going to graduate, but also the second son of the late Uchiha Clan Leader, as well as a Hyūga, an Inuzuka, an Aburame and the Nine-Tails Host from the Uzumaki Clan ( _and_ son to the Forth, but nobody should be aware of that fact anyways).

Certainly a promising generation.

The teams still had to be formed and the sensei would have to be notified; he chose to listen to his son's wish and elected a team for him. Hiruzen let his stamp fall against another document, suddenly yearning for his pipe. Surely, his sensei, the second Hokage, had not signed up for this. Neither did he, but in order for his beloved village to work and remain in peace he would have to endure it.

A soft knock alerted the Anbu in the room. The Hokage was relieved that this person, who, judging by the chakra, was his son, actually decided to knock instead of just barging through the doors… or the windows. He let his son enter with a gruff sounding invitation.

Due to his smoking habit his voice came out rusty and deep: fitting for his age, as his student had once said.

The door opened and his son entered the office; however, not as leisurely as he would have done usually. The Hokage was surprised; not because his son stopped by without a previous announcement. He had already expected this move since he constantly bugged his father with a request for a Genin-Team. Nay, he was surprised by a young girl lying within his arms, signs of a deep slumber – or even unconsciousness becoming prominent. Since shock and confusion probably were very prominent on his face, Asuma answered the unasked question and indicated the girl, "I found her walking aimlessly on the Main Street: blacked our after having a rather… _sudden_ panic attack. I actually thought she was an orphan at first."

Eyebrows furrowed, the old man inquired, "If she is an orphan, than why didn't you bring her back to the orphanage… or the hospital?"

Asuma didn't answer immediately. He gently placed her on the sofa to his left and proceeded to sitting on the chair in front of Sarutobi's desk. Perplexion mirrored on his face. "I've never seen her before, that's for sure. A week ago, I visited the orphanage, and I definitely would have remembered a girl with white hair…" Asuma stopped explaining the previous events, seemingly to recollect his thoughts, "… I have a feeling that there's something wrong with her, or rather, about the way she acted.

"I thought it was best to get your opinion on it first. And according to some civilians who checked her states, there's nothing to worry about except saying that she really needs a warm place."

Unsatisfied, his father demanded for a more detailed elaboration of the transpired events. As his son did as asked, the Third processed the given information. Turning his head towards the unconscious girl, he saw her sleeping peacefully: unaware of the things occurring outside her consciousness. In spite of her appearance extraordinaire, there was neither anything remarkable nor recognisable about her appearance; yet, he couldn't disregard a proper observation. Freckles were dusting the girl's cheeks and stood out perfectly against the waxen complexion. Her skin tone resembled his former student's just too close – as if it had never seen the sunlight. On closer inspection, her locks appeared to be a light shade of blond.

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary – even if there was, her dress would have hid any other distinguishable feature, such as scars. As a ninja, he was, of course, highly trained in the art of observation. Although she appeared oddly familiar, the girl didn't possess any particular clan traits and the chakra…

The Hokage took his pipe in his hand (finally giving in) and summoned an Anbu. Asuma – out of range – was not able to understand what his father was discussing with the Anbu as they spoke in a particular low tone. After a few seconds, the Anbu shunshined away.

Silently asking the leader by quirking an eyebrow, Sarutobi explained, "I asked him to search the archives and the orphanage for her file."

Asuma nodded. Since it was going to take a while, Sarutobi decided to head back to the mountain of paper. The moment he noticed the bitter but overly familiar smell in the air, he knew his son took the liberty to smoke too. A habit he essentially got from his father himself. For incidents like this, the Hidden Leaf Archives, _'KSA'*_ for short, kept profile of the village's population. While shinobi had a much more detailed record than a civilian or an orphan, the latter only had the most basic information.

"Her chakra…" the older Sarutobi began, stopping in doing his paperwork.

"Mhm?"

'"The chakra reserves are too large for a young girl. It's not as big as the one of a jinchuuriki but it's remarkable, nonetheless."

But before Asuma could voice any suspicions lingering in his mind, the Anbu from before returned in a cloud of blinding (and, to be honest, melodramatic) smoke. The masked ninja handed the Hokage a stack of around five files, each of them neatly encased by a pot brown folder. Hiruzen gave a gruff reply of approval and excused him. Just as he was about to commence his task, Asuma had already taken the freedom to grab one of the files; its envelop already discarded and forgotten, Asuma's eyes scanned the pages and his fingers danced between the layers (occasionally wetting his index fingers to tug apart the non-existent glue between the pages). He didn't quite understand what made his son so curious as it wasn't particularly in character for him to become this zealous and overworked, but even he couldn't deny that there was indeed something mysterious and sibylline about her.

Maybe, when she would wake up, the girl herself would be able to fill them in. To grant them the missing pieces of the puzzle.

* * *

"She isn't in any of those files! That's simply impossible!" exclaimed an irritated Asuma.

"Calm down, son." However, the Kage himself was also confounded by the situation.

As if on cue, she began moving. The girl yawned, rubbing her eyes dazedly. The Hokage was anticipating to see outstanding eyes, orbs belonging to a clan or anything that could help to pinpoint her origins, but instead he saw common, chocolate brown eyes staring right into his raven ones.

Ryo wasn't completely nonplussed when she saw that she was not lying on the hard street – she figured that someone would have enough heart to save her – but she was curious, nonetheless. Judging from the paper towers on the desk in the far back of the room and the pictures of four men lined upon one wall – one of those faces sitting behind the desk – it must have been the office of an official.

The two men watched Ryo carefully, not knowing what to expect from the unknown girl whose gaze curiously wandered over to them. The younger one , Ryo noticed, was probably a ninja: speciality in Taijustu, Bukijustu or Kenjustu, judging from his visible muscles. Despite the fact that every ninja is physically extremely trained, pure Ninjustu or Genjustu users would rather depend on their chakra than their physical prowess. Be that as it may, she could be wrong of course.

Behind the desk sat a man, purely radiating kindness and wisdom. But there was an object pointing towards the fact that he was not just some nice old man: the square hat sitting upon his head: a Kage's hat. If her knowledge served right and her interpretation of the imprinted Kanji was correct, he must be the Hokage, leader of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Whether it was naïve or rational, Ryo knew she could trust them; they had a familiar feeling to them, almost like a sense of déjà vu. All in all, they appeared to be trustworthy (especially since a Kage sat in front of her).

The men were making her slightly uncomfortable with the staring, but it was her fault as she didn't even thank them for getting her off the streets. Ryo definitely wasn't the only uncomfortable person in this room. The Anbu in the shadows (at least she believed them to be there) waited simultaneously for something inevitable to happen: the awaiting tension was high.

…Till they heard the stomach of the little girl protesting, and not in a silent manner.

A few moments later, they silently ate some take-out food from the barbecue place downtown.

While Asuma and his father ate their food, clearly used to eating al desko, the young girl who was now sitting besides the younger Sarutobi, happily devouring hers, was not at all embarrassed by her actions. The silence ate Asuma away, long forgotten his issue with the Genin Team, but he noticed a few more things than before.

Her hair was not white but rather a pale blond; a very pale blond. Her forehead was covered by messy bangs, but a bold eyebrow peeked out if it for a moment while she was cheerily swinging her legs. Even though she was dirty, she didn't have any wounds or bruises. At least not on her arms and legs since they were covered up by her dress and bandages. He wanted to suggest to let her take her to the hospital dirt to clean up, when his father stopped him.

"It came to our attention that your identity remains a mystery. Would you be able to tell us who you are?"

The way she looked at him felt as if he was being cromulent. Sighing, he sat his pipe down. "I am Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Kage of this village," the Hokage announced. He locked his eyes on his son, urging him to introduce himself too.

Asuma's hand reached towards his pocket for another cigarette, but chose not to. Who knows how she would react. "I am Asuma Sarutobi. His son."

She nodded, as if those names would mean something to her. Turning her head to look at a small plant sitting on the table. "I don't exactly know who I am, but I'd like to assume that my name is Ryo," she contributed. Asuma's expression changed to a rather pensive one. Just what did she mean by that? Was that some kind of physiological tactic.

Asuma paused, remembering that this wasn't a mission and that he could relax. But there was something about her that just wouldn't let him rest.

"Do you have a last name?"

It wasn't unheard of that people didn't have surnames. There are many civilians who didn't posses any kind of surname; in fact, the largest part of the Hidden Sand's population did not possess a last name. They would normally be referred to by their title. The white-haired girl didn't look uncomfortable at all, but there was curiosity written all over her face. Finally, she answered, ''I don't know.'

Baffled, the younger Sarutobi quizzed, "What do you mean?" The Kage crooked an eyebrow as he listened. "Well, it means that I don't know. I don't remember."

She apparently wasn't intending to snap, so she added "sir" in a quiet afterthought. Hiruzen's eyes narrowed, ignoring her choice of tone as he couldn't judge the things she could have went through without perceiving them first. "How could you not remember?" He had a suspicion, but choose not to voice his thoughts.

"I'm assured that I have Amnesia, sir," she explained, setting the empty food container onto the table and folding her hands quickly in respect.

The Hokage simply closed his eyes in thought while Asuma looked forthright bumfuzzled.

Hiruzen sighed once again, taking a long puff of his pipe. How was it possible that a person who does not belong to Konoha could suddenly appear with no memory whatsoever; indeed, it was impossible to enter the village as the protective barriers were up at all times. They would immediately notify the barrier keepers of an unknown presence, even if it the Body Flicker Technique was used.

That was the reason why there were only two guards at the gates, who were seemingly 'useless'. This would leave two, actually about four, possibilities: First would be the possibility of this being a fabricated lie, but that didn't explain the fact that she had just appeared out of nowhere with no documents whatsoever; hence, this one was impossible.

Second, the person had been using the Transformation Technique. Impossible as well, since he had memorized the chakra signature of every ninja with remarkably high chakra reserves. Thus, since he couldn't recognize hers, this leaves the third and the forth theory.

It could be that it this was an Illusion he had fallen into, a very powerful Genjustu. But neither him, nor his son, nor the Anbu had detected any kind of Genjustu. Besides, there was only one ninja in existence who would be able to cast a technique of such caliber; this person was outside Konoha's walls.

Lastly, the only possibility that was left, the one which seemed even more unlikely, was that this isn't any kind of lie or justu but, in fact, the truth. It still didn't explain why there were no documents on her prior existence in the village, but that shouldn't be of concern for now.

His son seemingly came to the same conclusion. Despite having stepped past the first obstacle, it felt just like returning even before the start point.

What a melee.

* * *

She knew that she was an inconnu in this room, but she was an inconnu to herself as well. It was quite strange to say the least. No memories had returned to her, but knowledge of certain topics started to break the surface.

She remembered the Great Nations, its Hidden Villages and its ninja. She remembered the theory of chakra and its attributes. Even the complex theories of sage chakra and the natures were known to her; and yet, she couldn't remember how she had acquired such knowledge.

It was infuriating.

The man sitting behind the desk had his eyes closed and his wrinkles deepened in concentration: probably thinking about the whole turmoil judging from his pensive look. Asuma Sarutobi, whose hands she constantly saw twitching towards his pockets, was smoking a cigarette and appeared to be more than confused… who could blame him?

She let them do their thing. There was, once again, nothing she could do at this moment.

Her eyes fell onto a small plant sitting almost in sadness on the office desk; it's leaves were darker than on an autumn's day and it has lost all its colour. Ryo went to touch the leaves with her finger, but stopped when she saw a sudden movement in the shadows.

A loud shriek emitted.

Faster than the eye could blink, she took a big and abstract-looking stone from the desk and threw it straight into the corner. It collided with the wall; hence, Ryo knew that it didn't hit the potential attacker. Just in the process of throwing the next-best thing – in this case the poor plant – a hand suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her partaking actions. The hand took ahold of her in a strong but gentle way, leaving her downright embarrassed. Lifting her head to see the piercing eyes of the Hokage, she blurted, "I'm sorry! I was just really startled—" Ryo rambled on, knowing that she had done something wrong. They were already analysing her, so what if they thought that she was an enemy?

"The Anbu happen to have this effect, do not fret," the Kage told her. She stared at him, perplexed that he was this… trusting. Perhaps he had deduced something from all her previous actions.

"It is indeed a strange case that you suddenly appeared with no memories at all. I suggest that someone escorts you to the hospital first," the old Kage told her. Seeing her bland face, he elaborated, "It might be beneficial to undergo a medical check-up. You will return here for further questioning afterwards, in case your memories partially return. Is this alright?"

Knowing it wasn't her place to argue, she nodded gratefully. Going to the hospital probably also meant that she could get cleaned up. She wasn't looking nor smelling filthy, but there was a lot of dirt on her skin. Probably the way a child looked after playing with its friend on a particularly rainy day; no one's mien was always perfect.

However, she did not know what to expect from the coming questioning.

Or was it going to be an interrogation?

Ryo was still unsure if she could trust this man. But she was undaunted by what was going to come. She wouldn't be able to control it anyways.

* * *

It wasn't their place to ask as they were supposed to stay in the shadows. But this couldn't stop them from thinking about it. Why would the Hokage personally question a girl who, despite her large chakra reserved, seemed completely harmless? Even if she was suffering from amnesia, he could have just send her to the hospital or the asylum outside Konoha.

Their leader had requested to have a conversation without interruption, so they were not allowed into the office in the mean time.

The escort for the girl hasn't arrived yet, so they busied themselves by watching her every movement. It wasn't exactly the most interesting task as she just stood with her back to the wall, moreover looking anything but agog.

"Why would you interrogate her yourself, father? The guys at TI surely have more time than you," Asuma queried his father.

He didn't reply immediately and silently interdigiated his hands. The escort for the young, peculiar girl should have arrived and taken her to the hospital already. What was to follow the events after this was unknown. He knew all the memoriter aspects of the system, but an occurrence like this has never happened before.

This was surely not the retirement he had wished for.

"There is…something oddly familiar about her. Don't you agree?"

His son snapped his eyes bewilder onto him, but they slowly descended again in a pensive fashion. Asuma didn't have to reply as that was enough of an answer, but he instead enquired, "She is indeed familiar, but I can't describe why… it's almost if there is some kind of fog over my memories."

He closed his eyes and sighed, "Would it be beneficial to let Inoichi look into her mind?"

"It would; in fact, I had already been thinking about it," the Hokage replied. Wanting to finally get back to the never-ending paperwork, his son suddenly laughed heartily, "That tree… I'm surprised it's still looking as good as it has when I gave it to you."

The not-so senior wanted to laugh and guiltily confess that it had already died under his improper care, when he realised that his son was in fact not joking.

The little tree seemed as good as new.

* * *

"Are you Ryo?"

"Uh, yes?"

The man before her fell into an immediate coughing fit. Cautious, she exclaimed, "Are you alright?!" His coughing ceased. Ryo still gazed at him bewildered, but he simply asked her to follow his steps.

As they left the building (which, presumably, was the Hokage Tower), she craned her neck to finally register the faces in the massive stone-wall. Having forgotten for a moment that she was supposed to accompany her escort, she turned around to catch up with him.

And that was not an easy task with a height of five-feet-nothing.

She has never seen someone with darker eye-bags than her escort's; granted, she has only met three persons up until now, but they were still almost black. Thinking about eyes gave her an even more important question: what was her eye colour?

"Erm… excuse me, mister?" Ryo asked, tugging nervously at his sleeves.

"Hayate."

"Right, Mr Hayate. Could you tell me what my eye colour is?"

The man – Hayate – stopped his almost-running and stared flummoxed at the little girl, before sighing and continuing their small journey again: this time, walking in a quite slovenly way. "Looks like brown to me."

Nodding in gratitude, she continued her jogging as well but already felt a stinging pain in her side. Hayate kept coughing which led Ryo to believe that he had a serious lung problem, but she knew better than to pry. Going through a mental checklist, she surveyed the most important things about him – after all, information is more valuable than anything. More than time and health could ever be.

He wore the standard uniform (she saw a lot of ninjas wearing it, including her 'saviour') and had a sword strapped over his back. He wore his forehead protector as a bandana and a thick strand of brown hair peeked out of it.

Being a lot taller than her, she had to jog to keep up with him. Even though Ryo would have preferred to talk to him, the village caught most of her attention.

By now, it was already dark, just a few minutes after sunset, but the shops were still open; still, she just wasn't able to properly focus on the scenery.

Her hands and feet started to hurt; it wasn't really painful, but the feeling was quite distracting. As if flies would swarm around your legs, no matter how often you'd shrug them off.

Noticing her discomfort, the taller man caught her attention, "We are here."

Silently thanking the short distance of the two buildings, she nodded. They entered the mostly-white cement building and went to the reception. Ryo was grateful that she didn't seem to get many stares; indeed, a lot of Ninjas probably came here dirtied from their missions.

"Would you follow me, please?" a nurse asked her. Nodding her head again she turned around to thank her escort, but he had already left in a puff of smoke.

* * *

A few years later when her memories would have returned, Ryo still acknowledged this day as her beginning; despite every thing that happened beforehand, it was her start. Her father would have called it her 'prologue'.

He definitely would have been right.

 _As such, another leaf entered the story. Unforeseen and unexpected, she might be the key to change it all.  
_

* * *

 ** _So, how was it? Please tell me your thoughts by leaving a review. You can, of course, also PM me (I feel very weird saying that…)._**

 ** _Hopefully, I'll hear from you soon!_**

 ** _Edit on 05 May, 2018:_**

 ** _So, I changed the summary (coz neither me nor my dearest beta-reader were fond of the first one), along with some layout changes... aesthetics are everything...  
_**

 _ **Toony - 소련**_


	2. Chapter 2 – Simpering Albatross

龍

 **SIMPERING ALBATROSS  
**

龍

* * *

"Could you raise your arms, dear?" the nurse asked in a gentle voice which made it basically impossible to feel nauseated. Not that Ryo would feel the reason to be afeared; after all, the nurse was only finishing up the medical report. But she must have been a very popular nurse with the younger children, as her voice might as well have been straight out of a jar of honey.

Ryo was still upset over the fact that her escort – Hayate – had just abandoned her; but then again, there were probably more important things that had to be done by him. Dismayed but not shocked by her desertion, Ryo did nothing for a while but listen to the doctors' instructions. All though, she wasn't upset over the fact that he'd left; rather, she was quietly scolding herself for forgetting to pay her gratitude. She had a lot of time to think while being in the hospital, and she came up with two extremely helpful facts.

First, she didn't have a personality… at least not yet. Her persona up until now was simply led by her natural instincts – just like an animal. It will build up over time, and she had already gained a few traits as well: anxiousness, for one. But this might as well be led back to the natural, anthropoid fear of being hurt by something unknown – just like an animal.

Second, she might have lost her memories, but her knowledge remained. Though, she had already covered that – but she was perplexed by the amount of knowledge she shouldn't know. However, it was hard to distinguish between common knowledge and facts she shouldn't be conscious of; she would have to be careful with the information she would choose to share in conversations.

Sending a smile to the tall nurse, she obligately listened to the woman and let her take the last measurements.

An hour later – it was almost midnight – Ryo was allowed to leave the hospital, having completed her whole medical report. It certainly took long, as not only her weight and height were added to the form: fingerprints were registered, blood tests were processed and, the unarguably part par excellence, she got to clean up. Not only that, but she was finally able to put a face to her own person. White, messy hair covered her back – the nurses had to help brushing through her mane – and her bangs hid her long, and bold eyebrows. Her eyes were, indeed, as brown as freshly milled cocoa beans. Speckles of tiny brown dots littered her cheeks, and, as conceited as it sounded, she would have founded herself quite the prepossessing sight; however, she was as pale as it was humanly possible and it made her feel fraud, especially under all the stares thrown her way.

The awareness of her own body pleased her as well; there were a few scars scattered around her body, a long one running up her left thigh. It was interesting to imagine how it must have come to a scar like this. Was she a merchant's daughter perhaps? Did she travel around the world and acquired her scar by a stray ninja?

Exhaling slightly, she straightened the shirt she was given before and entered the Kage Tower.

* * *

"Someone probably just exchanged it for a new one when they saw its condition. Probably Ebizo or a secretary from downstairs."

The Hokage's eyes were closed, his concentration unable to focus properly. "That's impossible, Asuma. It has been like this since this morning, and no one ha entered this room in the meantime."

"Then what do you suggest-"

They weren't able to finish their conversation, due to a knock on the door alerting them. Again, Hiruzen welcomed the person in and the door was opened.

"Inoichi, I hope my request isn't causing any problems this late?"

* * *

A man in his late thirties entered the office. Inoichi Yamanaka, Head of the Yamanaka Clan and the Analysis Team, made his way towards the company of the room and went onto his knee. "Lord Hokage."

Urging him to raise himself, the Hokage explained the situation to the Yamanaka. Inoichi stayed silent, processing the given information. He hasn't been particularly surprised by the messenger appearing at his front door and demanding for his immediate presence – but he hadn't expected to be involved in a paradox that was shrouding in mysticism and fog; and, just when he was starting to ask questions related to the case, the enigma herself knocked the door.

* * *

Ryo pushed her bangs out of her face, becoming annoyed by its length. Not just that, but she just had to busy her arthritic hands with some task – even if it'd be useless as they would just fall back onto her forehead right after.

A person she hadn't seen before was joining their company and, from the looks of it, he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. But the atmosphere – which would more likely be called tension – was the elephant in the room. The Hokage, whose face was calm and benign, now had his head supported by his intertwined hands, appearing to be in deep concentration as his wrinkles deepened. His son appeared even more perplexed than before; he was still sitting as leisurely as possible in a situation of this calibre, even ensconcing himself, but there was a slight change in his demeanour as of now, something very small and subtle. If it were anyone else, excluding those who knew him well, it would have gone unnoticed: the slight twitching of his index and ring fingers.

She was blaming her memory loss. After all, people are often led to believe different views of certain topics by what is the actual truth. It may even have happened right in front of our noses, and that person would still believe his own view or the opinions of others. Humans generally seem to follow others.

Biting her lower lip softly, she mused quietly to herself in satisfaction. Ryo had been able to recall a lot of information that seemed to have been acquired before amnesia had fallen upon her. Psychological tactics were very important. If it came down to it she would have to use them on the current occupants of the room, despite the kindness they previously displayed… but a part of her knew she wouldn't be able to and it probably wouldn't even work on a Kage in first place.

Even if they've helped her, there was something completely different and she didn't know if it was her presence who caused this.

The tension might as well have been an omen, and the blatant stares of the blond haired man (who seemed awfully familiar, similar to the Hokage and his son) just emphasised this point. He appeared to be strict with his sharp facial features. His high cheekbones stood out from his other features. "I'm Inoichi Yamanaka. I've been informed of your condition," the man, Inoichi, explained. "I will cast a Jutsu unto you that would eventually be benefitted from."

Ryo liked him. Not only did he choose to tell the complete truth without sugar-coating the details – to enter someone's mind is not a facile explanation – but she noted the fact that he hailed from the Yamanaka, a clan known for their proficiency with anything related to the other's subconscious.

Ryo nodded, handing Asuma the copy of her medical examinations, the original being on its way to the Archives. "Can I… ask a question before we start, sir?"

The Hokage nodded at her, his eyes holding that unique aura that automatically seemed to calm Ryo. With her hands behind her back, she shifted from foot to foot: the sensations from before having returned. It was a disdainful distraction, but she was able to utter her troubles, "What will happen if I refuse to have you look into my mind, Mr Yamanaka? It's not that trying to hide something, but I'm more afraid of what _I_ might see. But that probably made it look like I'm trying to hide something, which really isn't the case, but what I–" Ryo began stumbling upon her words, the pain from her feet encouraging her growing anxiety.

The Hokage smiled gently, holding up his hand as a signal for the footling girl to calm herself. Turning to Asuma, Hiruzen asked, "Could you make some tea, Asuma? It has already become quite late, and a tea might be able to help our fatigue."

His son stood up, stretching himself thoroughly. He had already begun to become tired; after all he had a mission concerning the ever-fretting Daimyo of the Land of Fire before arriving a night before, and he had been in his father's office since then. "That's a good idea. Any preferences?"

"Ginseng would be wonderful."

"What about you, Inoichi?"

The man of strong build replied, nodding his head gratefully, "Ginger would be alright."

Ryo startled slightly when Asuma turned to her, unsure of what to tell them. Ginger is supposed to calm one's nerves, but she wasn't sure if it'd be acceptable to take the same as the Yamanaka. Passion flower tea is also supposed to do the same, but she didn't know if that was too exotic. A fruit tea would have been simple, but she was unsure if that would let her appear too juvenile. Then there was–

"Chamomile is supposed to has miraculous effects," the Hokage told Ryo, having seen her internal struggle. Asuma laughed, "My Chamomile tea surely isn't a work of wonder, but I'll try my best."

As he left the room, she noted his heaved steps and concluded that he really must have been tired.

* * *

"So you're going to throw me out of the village if I refuse?"

"Indeed."

Ryo bit her lip, but her anxiety was long gone. Having finished their short-lived tea break just at the crack of dawn, the older Sarutobi began explaining her current situation: what might happen if she refuses and the procedures if she chooses to agree. The possibility of actually being able to stay in the village were, if Ryo's calculations were not fallacious, begrudgingly minimal.

Realising that she really doesn't have a choice as the one possibility would lead to an immediate game-over, she nodded and nervously shifted her weight back and forth between her legs. It was either accept and get the possibility to see a horrifying memory, or decline and possible die outside the walls – whether by starvation or an attack.

What if she was an offspring of a criminal who was execrated as dangerous and vicious? What if her memories displayed an image, the very idea of which abominated by them? What would they do then? How would they respond?

With fear?

With horror?

With dread?

 _Would they try to get rid of her?_

Would they try to torture her for certain information? That was how ninjas normally did with a foe. The positive part of Ryo assured her that she was just exaggerating and that these people wouldn't murder a child in such cold blood. That those people had gone to enormous lengths already just for her. That they couldn't just decide to make a girl with such distinguishing features ( _what kid her age had white hair, after all?_ ) disappear because surely someone would notice her and bring her back to where she belonged; they had been too nice and kind to leave her at this point.

But the more careful, realistic side, however, was coaxing her into a pit of mistrust; it was trying to get her to believe that they were too nice. That just because a war – where ninjas had killed each other because of their affiliation – had ended more than a century ago, she still shouldn't trust anyone. That just because she was in Konoha, a village ruled by 'peace', she shouldn't assume that everyone harboured the Will of Fire. That Orochimaru, for example, didn't just start performing unethical experiments on his fellow citizens for the simplicity of amusement. That she was indeed nugatory to them.

Banishing those thoughts from her head with a firm mental push because there was nothing she could do to change to outcomes.

On the other hand, Hiruzen, along with Inoichi and Asuma, couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she started displaying her abilities by accident? He had, of course, theories on what had caused the flower to suddenly defy all means of science – he wasn't claimed as _The Professor_ for nothing. But could there be a possibility of destruction lurking underneath an act such as this?

* * *

"Are you feeling comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be, I guess."

Inoichi placed his hand gently onto her head, signalling that he will start casting the Jutsu now. While it will only be a matter of seconds for the Hokage and his son, it might appear like days worth of time he would spend in the girl's memories. He was, however, hoping that there won't be any mental blocks to probe through.

Ryo swallowd heavily, both exited and petrified by the things she might see. She had stopped asking herself if she will see her family, or if she will see something entirely else. It wouldn't matter afterwards.

She startled at the sudden cry. "Psycho Mind Transmission!"

How much time had passed?

Ryo was left baffled: unable to comprehend the wonders of chakra. It scared her, of course.

The fears of Inoichi had come true, however. He had already sorted through her most recent memories, those being of the day yesterday, but what he felt now was horrifying to say the least. Such an emotion was unbridled and something he hadn't felt for a long time. Yet, as he gazed around for the umpteenth time, he couldn't help but feel it without restraint; no matter what, he just couldn't see.

In situations like those, he would never be privy of much of the memories – he had years of experience and the abilities to do so. Yet, her mind was something extraordinary: not only was is shrouded in complete darkness, but 'it' was fighting back. By the large, he had seen many criminals, rouges and whatnot whose memories had been suppressed by them in futile efforts.

But it wasn't her who fought back; nay, her mind was his dern enemy.

As soon as this realisation was paralogised, things started to change. The darkness was fading and Inoichi couldn't help but feel as if he's gotten through the mental blocks. But he hadn't. Soon, the ever-pitying black was wholly replaced by an angry red – an that's exactly how he felt.

What did Lord Hokage think, involving him in this rebarbative matter? Heat rushed to his ears and a metallic taste started appearing in his mouth. He gritted his teeth, cursing the system for making his work seem so obuscule. Anger soon transformed to dudgeon, then to a blinding hatred.

And then, it vanished.

That was… perplexing. Again, her mind went dark without a scintilla of light. Anger, or hatred even, was something he normally didn't deal with – simply because he didn't harbour any of those. Either, those were her emotions she had once felt (though, it isn't normal to feel your suspect's emotions) or this was another mental block.

Would he break through the mental blocks if he'd simply disregard those emotions? But he didn't have those to begin with; it was as if whatever was preventing him from entering her memories, was coaxing him into thoughts he has never had.

And then, it began again. This time, his surroundings didn't change to that horrible red. No, they coloured itself blue. But not the kind if blue the sky would wear on a sunny day; no, the kind of blue you could never see yourself, as it only exists in the deepest parts of the sea. As such, his emotions were being played with again.

What if he'd be locked in here for all eternity? What would happen to his family, to his daughter who would soon follow his footsteps in becoming a praised member of their family?

A storm started brewing as his ears caught the sound of distant thunder. He didnt know when it started, but he began imagining scenarios that fed that horrible, pessimistic side he never knew existed. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Inoichi bent forward where he sat on the floor, pressing his palms to the ground; and he began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

And once again, it was all over.

He rose up, confused by the whole ordeal. Just what was her mind trying to make him do? Pressing his fingers to his cheeks, they were indeed wet from his tears; yet, he couldn't remember what made him cry like he'd never before. It couldn't be an illusion, as his fatigue from breaking out was indeed real.

Could it be, that he had been going at it from the wrong angle? But that couldn't be as well, as neither fighting against nor indulging those faux emotions were seeming to solve this puzzle.

Suddenly, a sharp pain spread through his lower leg. He tried to hold back the seething avalanche of tears that threatened to fall from the growing agony he endured. Glancing down, he saw a slim snake with its teeth deeply logged in his skin. It's scales were as white as the flash that pushed Inoichi out of Ryo's mind.

* * *

As time passed, his posture started to stiffen and he and to regain control of his muscles that would go rigid the other way. As long as the Hokage known Inoichi, he had never seen (or being reported to by someone who had seen) the Yamanaka gone that long.

It had been ten minutes already, which seemed like an uncharacteristically length for a trained Yamanaka. Just as Hiruzen was about to call someone from the Analysis Team for help a flash filled the room.

To an outsider, it might have looked like someone shot a picture with flash in the office, but inside hell broke loose. Both parties, Inoichi and Ryo, were thrown afar from each other, and crashed into a wall – as if torn apart by an unknown energy. The Yamanaka, still dazed, was able to catch himself before this happened and landed in a crouch.

Ryo, however, was not as fortunate as she crashed straight into a shelf full of mission reports. She was still unconscious from the Jutsu cast upon her, but the sheer power that had crashed her woke her up.

The Hokage and his son stood up abruptly, the latter already hurrying to the nauseated Yamanaka. Hiruzen followed him soon but was shocked to see the condition he was in. His eyes were as red as the colour of his robes, and he was grimacing as if he'd lived through his worst nightmares. He was clawing his throat, his fingers fanning around it and, as pronounced, his stomach's contents immediately began pouring out.

It was crimson.

"Inoichi. What happened?" Asuma asked more than bewildered.

He looked onto his calf, and motioned for Asuma to reveal his lower leg. As he ripped the cloth away, both of them were greeted with two puncture holes surrounded by violet veins.

They turned to the girl, whose face was contorted in fright. She was pressing herself to the wall, hoping to disappear from this horrible mystery.

"There was… a snake… a white snake," Inoichi breathed out heavily. Hiruzen's eyes widened at this piece if information, remembering a certain piece stored away in his mind. Asuma's eyebrows furrowed. "Just what did she do?" The man began coughing but they couldn't do anything except watching him writhe on the floor, having already sent an emergency airmail to the hospital. Inoichi's eyes widened between all the coughs. They fell shut abruptly after uttering his last line.

"It wasn't her."

And he fell unconscious.

* * *

 ** _So… what do you think? I'm a person who really likes Thriller, Angst and all that stuff (but I do need fluff as cheesy as Parmesan from time to time)._**

 ** _What do think hindered Inoichi from progressing? Why do you think there was a snake?_**

 ** _Oh, and before I forget; let me tell you this: I promise you that this story is something you've never seen before. With moneyback guarantee._**

 _ **Hopefully, I'll see you soon!** _

_**Toony – 소련**_


	3. Chapter 3 - The Hidden Lotus

龍

 **THE HIDDEN LOTUS**

龍

* * *

It there was one thing she loved, then it was routine. She would always wake up in the morning and would eat something… if she wasn't on a diet (which never really worked as her father usually forbid her to do so). Then, she'd walk to the Academy until the late afternoon. Occasionally, she'd train with her father afterwards. Dinner would be prepared and she'd be off to bed, sleeping as long as possible.

Now, if there was something she absolutely despised, it would be a crack in that very routine. Her sleep was needed; so when her mother awoke her early in the morning, claiming that she was upset would have been a subtlety of the actual emotion coursing through her tired mind.

Nay, Ino Yamanaka was not pleased. At all.

However, as soon as she saw the state her usually-undaunted mother was in, she kept the snide remark she was about to make on her tongue. It was a rarity to see Inori Yamanaka, a strong and bold woman, in such a phase; the rays of morning sunlight, that had gently flooded the room, granted Ino the perfect view of her face. Her mother's brown eyes, which she was used to being calm and collected, were contorted in what seemed like fright and they had that tinge of weariness. Without asking the circumstances, Ino took this as a command to dress herself and spared Inori from uttering those since that might set the tears that were already forming to depart.

And then, she was hurried to the hospital. Ino couldn't help but wonder who they were visiting in the middle of dawn. It couldn't be a cousin, as closure with them was a rarity, unless…

"Could you give us the room number of Yamanaka Inoichi, miss?" she heard her mother mumble in a distant voice, pulling her child effectively out of her speculations and finally letting her understand why she was on the edge. And just like that, Ino felt her tranquility that once streamed like the most peaceful waters in her core draining away through a gutter.

But it just couldn't be that her father had to be hospitalised.

Firstly, he hadn't told Ino – as far she she remembered – that he would go on a mission… which was scarce anyways. Secondly, that was the only way for him to be able to get hurt since his job wasn't exactly dangerous, nay stressful. Additionally, he was very healthy; she would never be able to compete with Sakura in terms of figure since her father was unimaginably strict with her diet. 'A concern like this should be kept inside your head until you've aged at least five years.'. She'd hear this response whenever Inoichi would see her untouched plate.

The nurse led them to the designated room and Ino couldn't help but feel this abundant revulsion as they passed the halls of the hospital, her positivity slowly wilting like a dried flower.

* * *

As she pulled herself back to the present, just thinking back to the man's wound made her feel sick again. Those feelings just added on top to the empty ones that she was feeling because of the horrific incident that had occurred earlier that day, which she now appeared to be completely aware of.

Just what had she gotten herself into?

She knew that the tragedy wasn't exactly her fault as she had absolutely no control over it. Nonetheless, any human with a heart with the size of a pea would fell heavily guilty.

After the Yamanaka had been taken to the hospital, Hiruzen and Asuma Sarutobi had taken her into their perception. Like an eagle evaluating the worth of the hunted prey.

However, it wasn't like this.

Hiruzen, along with his son, deeply trusted Inoichi's words; especially if those words were based on the field of his speciality. Yet, they were perplexed and had every right to be so.

Unable to force a word out of her mouth, she tried to think of her next action. But she came to the same conclusion as before; she couldn't do anything at all.

The Hokage, as composed as ever, sat down and signalled for his son to follow him. Ryo was still supporting herself against the wall from earlier, just about six foot away from the desk itself.

As petrified as she was, she didn't want to waste more of their time. They might both be ninja who had been trained for staying awake up to three days, but time is valuable. So she picked herself of the floor and made her way to we previous seat, just next to Asuma.

While the Hokage had his eyes closed, as if already knowing his following steps, Asuma and Ryo had long lost their string to keep them along the occurrences.

"I think we've been staying here for a long time; how about we go somewhere else to recollect our thoughts?"

* * *

It didn't take long for her to realise that she would never want to see her father ill again. He drifted in and out of consciousness, only waking up to stare at her and her mother through unseeing eyes. When she thought he'd finally calmed down, he would begin to thrash around, muttering words she didn't understand and wasn't completely sure even made sense. When her mother couldn't take it anymore, she poured him a glass of water and tried to make him swallow, but he simply coughed it back up and shivered violently, lost in his fever dreams. He had caught the flu before, but never had it been as fatal as… whatever disease he had.

However, the worst part was that, no matter how much she begged the doctors to tell her what happened, they wouldn't relent and opted to just comfortingly place a hand on the young girl's shoulder.

As if she needed that.

* * *

It was scary, to say the least.

No, scratch that. It was straight out horrifying. Ryo knew this place; she knew this place with all her heart.

…But how? Could it be that she grew up in the Leaf? Was she born here? Could it even be that she was still living there?

It was a small store they had walked past; nonetheless, it felt as if that small noodle shop harboured a century worth of precious memories. But they had walked past it. However, it's name was imprinted in her mind as of now: Ichiraku Ramen. And just as they walked past it, she could have sworn that she had heard a voice calling something incoherent; still, it was nonviable, as there was no living soul near the diner.

"Hotaru!"

Startled, she turned around, but the street was still as empty as beforehand. Not only that, but it felt as if the person stood next to her… as I she was calling…

She nudged herself forward, knowing that it would stay a mystery for now. Glances of curiosity and admiration were thrown for their leader, but only a few were daring enough to walk up to him and wish him a good day. As it was just around six in the morning (judging from the sun's position), there weren't many spectators to be watchful of however.

As they took a few turns after leaving the Main Street, winding around the alleys. Despite having the biggest population of the five Hidden Villages, the roads were kept clean and not cumbered by sludge. It made her wonder if this was really the way to their designated place or if the Hokage was trying to shake of potential intruders.

Not exactly unfeasible to imagine. After all, it wasn't impossible to assume that someone had caught wind of the previous occurrences. But, judging from her observation, the old leader was skilled in the art of sensing.

But those weren't her only worries; most of them were on the subject of the hurt Yamanaka, which was, despite her company's nays, her fault.

At least partially.

Ryo trod lightly next to Asuma and tried to stay as far away from him as possible, afraid that he'd be annoyed. She was more than assured that the Hokage was as kind and caring as an important leader could possibly be without fully disregarding the village's needs and demands, but the young Sarutobi was a different story; was he a daring person who would, in a reckless attempt, try to save his whole camaraderie, or was he a laid back, but not slovenly person who would be a big reassurance if kept as a close friend? The letter certainly seemed more likely, but those speculations were left open.

Most importantly, she didn't know of those judgments were accurate enough to claim.

"We've arrived," Hiruzen announced, and for once Ryo was left baffled my the old man's stamina.

Asuma gazed fondly to the sign which appeared as if had been missing proper casement for a decade. "We haven't been here for quiet some time."

"Indeed, we haven't." Ryo sceptically let her eyes slide over the house's form which, by all means, didn't even fit the category of crooked anymore. It was a traditional teahouse, but it had clearly lost its charms. Despite all her assumptions, Asuma – having seen her obvious reluctance – ushered her inside in an excited way. Not quite like the excitement felt on Christmas Eve, when children are just about to open their presents, but more like the joy one would feel after meeting a friend you haven't seen for a long time.

Not only did this result in Ryo feeling bad – she didn't have a say in what was going to happen to her after all – but she also had this annoying felling of dissatisfaction.

Dissatisfaction in her rude behaviour.

They had already paid for her meal once and, while Ryo was pretty certain that they had quite the fortune on their hand, they wouldn't have had to do so.

And, again, Ryo noticed another detail regarding her amnesia; her personality was creating itself. Yet, it was easy to control it as well. For humans, lying is hard. Not only is it hard, but it's out of question to even attempt to lie to an expert since they would be able to pick up the tiniest twitch.

This has to do with personality, of course: character traits and everything in that specific category. For example, a person is presenting his artwork to his next. There are different factors that would affect the answer of the questioned person: factors like the persons' relationship, their credibility, and so on. But preferences and personality usually play the major role of the end result.

The first scenario could include the person, exuding humour and bonhomie, does not like the presentation. Conversely, according to his nature, he would still pretend to have a penchant for it – bathetic, in means to describe such.

The second possible outcome, similar to the first, differentiates in the personality of the person. This time, he's blunt and honest, so he wouldn't lie.

Howbeit, if observed thoroughly, the first's lie could be picked up. A twitch of an eyebrow, touching one's nose – all this can be an indicator to a lie. Likewise, it was becoming drastically harder and harder for Ryo to contain her emotions and her handling.

All that mistrust for the teahouse quickly replaced itself with astonishment as soon as thy entered the place. An amazing smell wafted upon her nose, instantly calming her unrealistic pneumonia of entering an apparent draughty old house. The entrance area was illuminated by what seemed like plumes of incandescent liquid rock, held by durable, chakra enforced paper lanterns. Upon entering the premises, an ineffable experience could be felt. It was as if one's eyes painted in grey cinder would flush with colour for the very first time. From the young woman carefully selecting spices, flowers and leaves, to the light, mellifluous sounds that could be heard; it all appeared like the top-tier, like the creme de la creme of entertainment.

It was the very home of aesthetes.

And yet, Ryo couldn't help but wonder why a teahouse of such calibre wouldn't promote itself. Why it wouldn't search for a better location. Why it had such a beautiful ambiance if the outside radiated horror.

"Welcome to 'The Hidden Lotus', Lord Hokage."

Ah. That's an explanation.

* * *

"So you're basically picking your costumers by yourselfs?"

"Of course! The Hidden Lotus shall not be entered by undeserving minds!"

A look of wonder crossed Ryo's face, and she was left unable to try and hide that childlike amazement of hers. Not only was she sitting in one of the best teahouses in all of The Five Great Shinobi Countries, but she was also sitting in the same room as the First Hokage Hashirama Senju had once sat after his wedding celebration.

At least she still had something to show off with, despite memory loss.

Just now, she had been talking to one of the elder workers and had gathered quite some worthy information. First of, The Hidden Lotus (or The gives out invitations to those souls they seem fit to visit, or even work under their command. She had also learned that the costumers will be able to discuss their affairs, and whatever business they might have, in absolute secret. This also meant that there wouldn't be people traipsing in and out all the time.

Hiruzen, Asuma and Ryo sat around a wooden chabudai, all of them having already received a cup of tea. The room – by far not as magnificent as the entrance – was kept, similar to the whole, in a traditional style: fusuma covered the light from outside, tatami mats laid beneath them as they comfortably enjoyed the loose atmosphere.

At least until the woman went her way.

"Shall we return to our conversation, then?" The Hokage set down his cup, already emptied. If there was one thing he was trying with passion, it was his endeavour to build up a buoyant environment. It fascinated Ryo.

Asuma, having emptied his cup right after his father, was already refilling the cups. The Hokage commenced, "I want to address a certain detail we have come to observe beforehand." Just as he was about to continue, Asuma queried himself, "Are you aware that you have a Kekkei Genkei?"

The ambiguous intensity of looking into their eyes didn't feel as comforting as before. Ryo felt out of place, suddenly realising the meaning behind monochopsis. It felt simultaneously invasive and vulnerable, the way they expected her to react. Ryo's brows pinched together, her lips curdling. "…I do?" she asked, aware that it made the setting even more awkward in her favour.

The Hokage progressed her sentiments. "As of now it is just a theory, but it would bring no harm to prove it, would it?"

Not wanting to appear kittle, she shook her head. She was eager herself; after all, a Kekkei Genkei would help classifying her to a clan.

She'd just have to see how it turns out.

* * *

It was one of those days. Those days with cloudy skies, that were so dark one would think it is just before midnight. Those nights with the heavy rain pelting on windows and rooftops. Those nights where thunder rumbled and lightning sparked through the sky. Those kinds of nights children are never able to sleep without the comfort of being in thee parents' embrace. And on this particular night the thunder storm going on outside seemed to be especially terrifying.

The rain pounded heavily on her shoulders as she raced afar, careful to avoid puddles as her now-bare feet smacked against the pavement. It had just begun raining and there was barely a soul left on the streets. But, despite the atmosphere, she didn't seem to dislike the raindrops drenching her very being.

And just like this, she discovered a new piece of information: she felt comfortable standing in the rain's range without any kind of cover. Maybe she grew up in the Hidden Rain? It wasn't exactly impossible, but then again, it was also not impossible that she came from the Village Hidden in the Sea: a village that had been destroyed due to a virus outbreak. Or the Hidden Eddy Village for that matter. As she reached the Senju Park and went on top of the lawn, she felt her feet relaxing; it was as if the nature was coming to sense with her very being.

However, that didn't solve her matter.

And just what would?

* * *

 **...**

 **Alright, I'm sorry. At least kind of.**

 **I'm sorry i didn't update for like two weeks, but internet was being a little whiny kid and decided to vanish. On top of that, I got the flu and, while that is not really an excuse, I just didn't know how to continue writing. But I already established how I'll do the next chapter ;D**

 **Just to inform you guys, I know exactly where this story is going as I have the whole plot sorted out: the additional OCs, the ships (which are going to be the same as cannon except Gaara, he can't just stay a forever-bachelor... and he's a cinnamon roll), the people who are gonna survive and who are gonna die (and how)... so you don't have to worry about me having lack of ideas or a writer's block... I mean, I even have Boruto planned...  
**

 **And _please_ leave some reviews; I _adore_ talking to you guys or responding, in this case. **

**So, what do you think are the mechanics behind her Kekkei Genkei? Let me tell you that it is definitely not OP.**

 **Hope I'll see you soon!**

 _ **Toony - 소련**_


	4. Chapter 4 - A Bridge

龍

 **A BRIDGE**

龍

* * *

"So, in theory, if I touch this plant it will… _magically_ sprout leaves?"

The Hokage chuckled at her enthusiasm. Ryo's head rested on top of her folded arms, her already big eyes gazing at the little plant as if it's the most wondrous object existing. And it was for her, in a sense. If this experiment would works, she'd have an easy time finding her family; after all, it might just be a bloodline-limit. "In theory, yes. But there could be variables we've overlooked," the Hokage explained, watching as her face fell into a frown. It didn't prolong however, as her mouth soon formed an even brighter smile. "Trying wouldn't hurt though, right?" Asuma, who has finally taken the liberty to light a cigarette, responded with a laugh, "It sure wouldn't."

The laugh sounded unsure however but Ryo quickly payed no heed to it, sitting up quickly: unable to prolong her exitement. After all the thoughts that had swarmed her head, she was filled to the brim with anticipation. Would her Kekkei Genkai originate from a powerful clan? Or a wealthy and famous one? But doubts were lingering her mind; that is, if the Hokage himself was unsure of what her justu could be, it ought to be a faux illusion underneath the occurrence extraordinaire. After all, he'd be the first person to be aware of a bloodline ability. Still, while Ryo didn't want to cast an unconfirmed surmise, but she felt as if he had a... certain hunch of what her apparent 'power' might be.

The plant before her was definitely a _mimosa pudica_ or shameplant: definable from the way its forest green leaves brushed each other in an attempt to shield themselves from potential enemies when Asuma had placed the pot on the chabudai. It wasn't particularly used indoors, so the staff must have gotten it from outside on their Kage's command. While Asuma and his father have finally made an effort to relax, pushing the thought aside that she could be dangerous, Ryo still wasn't able to forge her excitement. With another reassuring nod from the leader, the girl lowered her gaze unto the plant and moved her fingers towards it.

She couldn't describe the feelings that were transmitted. It was like a spark; the easiest explanation would have been peace. She felt at peace with herself, she felt as if the weltschmerz didn't matter anymore. It was bliss homage.

But what kind of homage… Ryo wouldn't have been able to describe it.

And as if it was a reflex, a thing she'd do every day she'd rise at the beginning of the day, her eyelids fell and she envisaged the plant before her. She saw a cell: the moving membrane, shielding the nucleus like a loyal knight. She imagined those doubling – tripling – until there was a mass of thousands over thousands of cells, all of them forming a net to accomplish their hosts survival. The tiny droplets of water channeled through the leaves and stem now felt like a magnificent waterfall, the streams rushing past each other refreshing Ryo's mind. She felt its ratoons enlarging, the roots expanding as far as possible in the pot's given space. The fine, paper-like leaves sprouted and bloomed to live, giving access to the barely noticeable spikes that inhabit the stems to fend itself off. The flowers awakened with its growth, spreading themselves among the branches. Power surged through her very being. It truly was just about visualisation and will power and a part of her really wanted to see just how far she could get the plants growing around her. To Ryo, this kind of power felt just like a metanoia: like a journey that changes her whole world. Yet, her world so far was small. But it didn't have to stay like this. Whatever power she might hold, whatever bloodline limit that might be, she wanted to know its exact measures.

And all it took to destroy the bubble of imagination was the mention of her name.

For a moment, the blonde was vulnerable and stunned by surprise. Ryo didn't display emotions like this, or at least the Ryo she knew up until that moment. Her own mien was opaque and unreadable – for _herself_ , nonetheless. But this… _greed_ for power was just like a harsh hiss: quiet but still intimidating enough to make her recoil. As much as she tried to keep her emotions under control, there would always be an impulsive flicker she couldn't restrain. There, lingering in her mind, was a minuscule but terrifying suspicion.

That being, that she wasn't a nice person. It appeared that she was greedy and power stricken.

In theory, even if she does suffer from amnesia, her brain ought to have remembered characteristics that she had gained beforehand – like language, for instance. Meaning that her personality itself was still whelved somewhere, encoded in her brain, and it would leak just like a broken sink.

And Ryo felt distraught with what did happen to leak.

* * *

The enigma itself kept growing more and more meticulous, but also a lot more comprehensive.

"So you indeed have botanokinesis," the Hokage concluded after watching the girl before him manipulating the potted plant. And it truly was manipulation, the way the branches stretched themselves and, just like the crowning glory, a stalked pale pink flower arose in between the leaves that seemed to gleam just like the jewels on a crown. Albeit, her face was everything but crown jewels. The blonde girl appeared solemn as she gazed upon her creation, her big fudgy eyes having reduced themselves to thin almonds. The corners of her mouth, that have been raised to an eager smile, had fallen lower than the deepest seas.

Albeit, that wasn't their biggest concern – by far.

Botanokinesis, the ability to control and generate plantlife, was an ability too similar to one it shouldn't be similar to: Hashirama Senju's Wood Style Justu. If related to Inoichi's accident with the white snake, the possibility of her being associated with the previous experiments of developing the Hashirama Cell, or in worst-case-scenerio Orochimaru himself, rose to unexpected heights. Could she be one of their previous experiments? Yet, none of the experiments had ever survived, except one that is.

Just as Asuma was about to voice their shared concerns, her simpering returned: her face shining just as bright as the sun itself. "' _Botanokinesis_ '– sounds like a good ability to have," she laughed. Yet, it appeared almost empty and void, unlike earlier when it had been filled to its brim with energy. Where the space in her eyes had been occupied by stars twirling around, now was an empty and matt brown void. It was that in lieu of saying what was on her mind, she took to overshadowing this. He'd have to implore more as he had no doubts that she'd eventually tell him.

Asuma emptied his last cup of tea and sighed. A yawn wanted to escape his mouth but, out of policy, caught it and whelved it deeper than before. Hiruzen watched, concern finally washing over him. They've all been awake for more than thirty-six hours, Hiruzen and his son even longer. Howbeit, it wasn't particularly much in their book, but Ryo would of course have different needs. Nonetheless, the establishments were at a crucial stage and they've definitely assembled the first major details. He was more than glad of his decision to come to the Hidden Lotus; confidentiality ought to be valuable in this case. While they still didn't know her last name – or even her first name to an extend – nor her age, it was already more than advantageous knowing that she had a Kekkei Genkai. They've also come to know that she might not even be suffering from memory loss but whose uprisings was forcibly suppressed; he'd definitely have to discuss this matter with the wounded Yamanaka who was unable to elaborate what kind of force resulted in his sufferings. However, the matter on the apparent snake Inoichi saw was still troubling him. Even if Ryo was an imposter(as mentioned, possibly connected to his antecedent student), she wouldn't be able to remember it. Her acting was of course highly suspicious; after all, what reason could she hold to feel the need to act on false whims? Could she have seen or realised something that had left their vision?

This still left this nagging feeling him and his son both seemed to share; she was familiar. And yet, they couldn't recall ever seeing her.

With those thoughts in mind, the Hokage spoke up, "It would be in our all our favours to rest for now. We are all past our exhaustion, I believe," he turned to the young girl whose smile was still lingering, "We will continue your essential papers tomorrow as we still have to fill out certain personal information; for instance, your age."

She nodded along, uttering a word of gratitude as she lowered her head. Her hands still lingered near the plant as if it was her only source of energy; he had immediately seen the difference in her basic behaviour as soon as she had touched the leaves. It appeared as if it was a battery of sorts as she didn't appear as tired as beforehand, despite her eagerness.

"I should bring her to the compound. It's the only place she could stay so far," Asuma said in conclusion. "This might be for the best."

* * *

Just what had transpired earlier? Ryo couldn't help but wonder.

As they had left the Hidden Lotus the old Kage had diverged from their path, insisting to go back to the office. Night had already fallen by the time they had arrived at the Sarutobi Clan compound, the paths being illuminated by the moon's light. The compound was simple: not overly big and held in a traditional style. Engawa* wove around the few houses that stood in the area with calming greenery embellishing the greenwards in an ornate manner. However, the dark had transformed the peace to an eerie quiet; the shadows dancing behind the shoji* screens did not controvert the chill winter breeze lingering in the air.

As they had arrived the end of the streets, they had not wasted time on formalities and had gone straight to bed. Even though he did ask her if she'd at least like a glass of water beforehand, she had denied: knowing he was just as tired as his darkened eye bags suggested. While he was indeed a ninja, he had been awake for a considerable time; after all, he arrived from a mission before discovering her. The Soldier Pills just kept you awake for so long as well.

But she wasn't sleeping; she couldn't.

Ryo felt strangely energised and as she had been laying on top of her shikibuton, she felt distracted by the diffused moonlight shining idly through the translucent paper of the shoji screens. The futon Asuma had provided for her was too comfortable for her to think about the transpired events of the two days she'd been in Konoha; in fact, it soothed her and the storm of whipped up emotions rattling her heart. So she pushed her blanket aside, the cold winter air instantly hitting her bare legs. While the shirt Asuma had given her beforehand was quite big, it wasn't thick; still, it was the only one that didn't slide off her shoulders from the stack of shirts she had gotten. As such, the only piece of cloth shielding her from the cold breeze were the bandages on her lower legs. Sliding the fusuma* apart from each other and wandered into the empty hallways, careful to reduce the creation of noise by walking on her toes. Howbeit, just as she reached the last step of the stairs, she began tumbling. Unable to hold herself upright, her hand flew to her mouth.

Her muffled cry echoed in a silent cadence around the floor. Ryo awaited for her ears to be tickled by the sound of light pads of footsteps; something lithe shuffling down the staircase, it causing her to swallow the peculiar lump that would have lodged its way into her throat. But it didn't come. Asuma must have been sleeping soundly. And while she wasn't afraid of him, she was afraid of a ninja who had been woken up by a noise in their house.

She heaved herself onto her feet, stepping out into the night. The garden was just as beautiful as the greenery she experienced before. Trees littered the greenward and the grass had been cut to perfect height. Her feet began protesting once again but she wouldn't remove the bandages; after all, if her hands could perform a deed such as the one on previous display, then surely her feet would be able to do so as well.

As she moved towards pond in the middle of the garden, she realised that, despite the contradicting temperatures, its level was not frozen. Ryo seated herself on one of the bigger stones, absentmindedly occupying her fingers with a pebble.

The kindled breath of muted blue wrapped it's stems around burly tree trunks and confetti that whistled in the lush green's emeralds. The sky was a vast ripple that reflected in the still sheets of water, glimmering minnows winding their way between slimy seaweed and a crust of pebbles. Her arm inhabited a sinuous arch that pulled back before abusing release, a flat, copper stone skipping along a surface so smooth and and creaseless like a pearl.

The stone didn't travel far, faltering in an invisible breeze as it tripped no less than a skip or two along the water. Ryo's fingers were already disappointingly rummaging against the litany of hard stone beneath her when she easily grabbed another.

Ryo let it fall, however, the sight of the moon's reflection halting her very being. Little pricks in her arms and legs were sculpting her heart into a frigid statue as the water ripples manipulated the moon's picture.

* * *

"You know, you're eyes are really pretty. Your brother's can't compare to yours at all."

Two children sat on top of a wall, seemingly enjoying the cool air brought along by the evening. They gazed upon the vast desert before them, their hair being transformed into birds' nests by the everstrong blowing wind. They sat close and idly watched the sun till it would be swallowed by the horizon, only for the moon to meet it for a few minutes until it would be the only thing reigning the sky. A musky smell filled their noses, relaxing them for a few hours.

The boy shook his head and hugged his plush bear closer to himself, his messy red hair tickling his ears. Laughing as if it was the most stupendous respond he could have given, the girl turned to him. "What? They are," the girl insisted, continuing her light laughing; yet, her bright nuance of her smile faltered a tad when she observed the puzzled expression on his face.

"Why?"

Seemingly used to his lack of description, she responded, "They remind me of the moon." Her face contorted into a plump grin that made her cheeks look like marshmallows and her lips curl like ribbon, wiping a drop of water from the corner of her mouth as she crowed closer to the redhead.

His cheeks crackled with a simpering heat when both children chuckled at the same moment, which confused the girl for she thought it was strange for an answer so generic. Unsure of what to say, nothing more than hot breath rolled off his tongue as overwrought heat stained his cheeks like rubbed rose petals. "Why are you smiling like that?

His eyes flew unto her figure again, watching as every golden beam of crackling sunlight hugged her skin as if it were craving the returning embrace of her affection. The wind was a sly whisper that tickled their ears like a cat's whiskers, a desperate cacophony that urged your pondering.

"How could they? They're green." He averted his pools of swimming green, glancing shyly to the side.

The girl's brows pinched together in light irritancy, arms folded playfully over her chest like it would shield her from the illogical aspects of his utterance. Laughter was crumbling off the person to her right and ringing in her ears like the body it belonged to were tangible, her heart ballooning upon the sight of the boy with his vibrant coloured hair and skin that had been kissed by fresh cream. His eyes were glossy like marbles and fitted to match a feline's looking mirthfully upon his friend; contrastingly, her fudge-resembling eyes narrowed and her lips formed a playful pout. "They are not green. Didn't I already tell you that they are teal, Gaara?"

* * *

It was quiet as Ryo shifted to stand, the raucous crow of her heartbeat swallowing the blood that gushed through her ears, something like an icy tremble fizzling in the hot liquid of her veins. Her throat felt scraped dry, parched like she had swallowed a mouthful of sand. A chilly breeze swept dust across the grass and onto the rippling sheet of water before her, the air crisp yet dry. Goosebumps began to prick along her skin, a sudden shiver trickling down her spine and forcing Ryo to wrap the thin shirt she was wearing even tighter against her body.

A glance over the high garden fence alerted her of how much time she has spend outside. The ground felt lumpy and some grass patches shined glassy from frosted their morning sheen, pearls falling of the tips like shimmering brilliants. Ryo was, strangely, unsure whether she liked the cold season or not; albeit, the tip of her nose slowly turned more numb by the second.

It was becoming more and more confusing for her. Similar to the old Kage, she theorised about the possibilities as well; could there be a justu influencing her mind? It was more than plausible as a Yamanaka shouldn't have problems with a mere case of amnesia. But Inoichi's wounds had been too suspicious and strange — too real to be faux. Not to mention the snake bite…

Ryo was left with pounding in her ears. The vision… the girl – who had to be around six years – was definitely her, it had to be. Those messy ringlets of snow white hair held in two pigtails and those chocolate resembling brown eyes were too similar to hers. The light brown specks adorning the marshmallow cheeks just emphasised her point. Yet, the scenery was definitely not the Leaf Village. The high borders around the village and the monstrous sea of sand signified it to be Suna.

But what had she been doing in the Sand Village? Who was that crimson-haired boy who had appeared to be close to her? And, most of all, what did those memories mean?

While this was her first experienced scene with a sufficient picture to put with it, it wasn't the first odd occurrence. A few hours ago, when she had passed that noodle shop, she had heard a name being called. Despite no living soul filling the vast road, she ears it again… Hotaru, it was. But why did she only hear but not see? We're there conditions to stimulating those memories?

Her mind had to halt its mind-progressing, however. As much as Ryo tried to stay awake to continue her speculations, she couldn't fight the developing exhaustion building up in her abdomen.

She'd have to explain everything to the Hokage tomorrow.

* * *

Fine strings of sunlight, filtered through the thin paper panels, tickled Ryo's face as she was buried beneath layers of cotton. Cold air breathe upon her skin as she slowly let her eyelids open up.

However, the sight was more than depreciated.

* * *

 ** _Engawa_ : the veranda that winds around a traditional japanese house**

 ** _Shoji_ : the panels that act as the walls around the house**

 ** _Shikibuton:_ the mattress of a futon**

 ** _Fusuma_ : the sliding walls within a house**

 ** _In response to 'Narulove's' review: It might just be an Earth Style Justu… it might… And there is indeed some deal with Orochimaru (there is a reason he is marked as one of the major characters; he plays quite the role here)._**

 **Alright! Sorry for the l** **ate chapter again… I lost track of time. As much as that's the lamest excuse in history, I figured out how much I have to write per day now. So, I won't explain much about her Kekkei Genkai just yet, but please give me some theories. While favourites are of course more than nice, I would really appreciate some reviews (and now I'm sounding really cringy… yay). Anyways, thanks for reading up until here, and this time I'll seriously try to bring the chapter out in a week. Bye!**

 ** _ **Toony - 소련**_**


	5. Chapter 5 - Of Accidents and Pondering

龍

 **OF ACCIDENTS AND PONDERING** _  
_

龍

* * *

Still, almost inaudible pads echoed around the hallway, the walls reflecting the resonance of the footsteps every time the sonics would hit an opposition. A person clad in white robes sauntered past the many doors that were closed shut. Strokes of alabaster moonlight fell through them, casting bloated pupils to scan the many number plates hanging above every entrance. The time of pink and orange hues had already passed, the moon's position signalling the deepest of nights. Every hospital was like the other: patients subsequently passing through mortal peril, questions of inequity and the injustice of life and the eerie, anomalous atmosphere.

The person stopped at one of the doors, having recognised the chakra signature lingering inside of it and raised his knuckles to softly knock the door. Not that he was expecting the occupant to be awake but it was a situation of serious matter, to complex to simply brush of. His ears waited for the signal to enter – should he be awake – but the only sound they caught was the silent creaking from an other room's bed. He entered regardless, his black eyes surveying the room thoroughly.

A bouquet of light green roses sat next to the bed; their presence seemed to instantly brighten the dull, dreary ward and the smell radiating of them had a certain scent of homage.

The Yamanaka surely had a way with flowers.

After he took in the entire atmosphere, the person advanced towards the chair set next to the Yamanaka's bed. While roses were allowed in hospitals (apparently because the pollen are protected my its petals, he wasn't a flower expert however), the nurses' annoyance would grow whenever they'd have to take care of allergies.

But there was no use in debating with the regal Yamanka woman – especially in the matter of flora.

" _Lord… Hokage_?" the person, Hiruzen Sarutobi, heard Inoichi mutter. The weak man made an attempt to leverage himself into an upright position, his muscles still fatigued by the poison. His bold brows almost pinched together in pain and his fingers sheathed into the soft cotton sheets; however; he felt a hand on his shoulder: pushing him gently, but in a demanding way. "No need to straighten yourself, Inoichi. I apologise for disturbing you time of peace, but there are certain topics whose explanations cannot wait until tomorrow."

The blond obliged, removing the pressure straining his muscles. As his hair fanned around his form once again, the Kage started with the first point of his agenda. "There have been quite surprising things me and my son have approached today, but I need you to tell me what exactly happened inside her mind."

As the room was encased in shallow darkness, the moon being the only source of light that allowed Hiruzen's charcoal pupils to view his bopping adam's apple. Inoichi's pale eyes darkened.

* * *

It was rather... _unexpected._

The smell the wintry weather (the main suspct who had woken Ryo up) brought along was different from the usual scents of sweet green grass and honeysuckle; yet, the smoke of someone warming hot chocolate and burning wood drifted around her room in unseeable waves, resulting in a pleasant aroma worth waking up to. Thus, something was bound to destroy the peace Ryo had comfortably bathed in.

'How did she figure this out?' one may ask.

As she opened her eyes, she immediately realised something quite unusual – and crucial.

She was lying on a bed made of grass. Not the soft and cottony futon from beforehand, but _grass._

Pure, unadulterated and fresh grass.

Everything still appeared to be rather hazy with the grogginess that came to awakening so early, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes; she was encompassed with indolence. That's why she'd been thoroughly surprised to detect a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye, something that bristled amongst her fans of lashes and the strings of sunlight.

As soon as her dark brown orbs shot open, she saw green left, right, up, and down. It stuck to every inch of her futon and it was so blatantly strange to experience – considering she had just woken up – that she just wanted to scream.

Bright, indulging green just… floating there. And it wasn't that awkward light green that darkened or went yellow according to the light exposure. It was chartreuse, the colour of the freshest and greenest grass mankind had ever seen. That kind of green that actively exudes warmth. It clouded her vision, and she was equally fascinated and estranged the wrong way by its vibrancy because a colour like that just wasn't natural. In the mass of those green vines were balls of cotton as white as the outside snow blankets. The smell was intoxicating and calming; she would have considered falling back to sleep if not for the jungle occupying the very room.

Despite the calming effect it seemed to harbour, there was one emotion cursing through her very being: from her head, where it bristled along her temples, down her spine until it would arrive at the ends of her nerves, making her fingers shake as untameable as a wild lion.

Surprise. The purest surprise she has felt (up until now).

So like any fuzzy minded, slightly dazzled and half-asleep (and very shocked) person would do, she reached out and brushed one of the many leaves.

And just like yesterday, there was this spark of energy. The leaves were soft themselves and she imagined what it would be like to lie in a sea of green, the occasional white cotton drop tickling her ears. Those thoughts marvelled her mind. So, without having pondered over the consequences, her sleep driven self let her creativity run free and, with that, her own little forest.

For a few seconds that felt like hours being stretched into thin web, her brain coalesced into a very big realisation. Her chocolate eyes, that had been reduced to glassy lines, shot open in obvious panic. By now, the leaves were cascading each other in size. They seemed to come from everywhere and, no matter how much she tried to think of something apart from the growth of plants, the beds of green kept growing and expanding.

In theory, the plant shouldn't continue to grow if it doesn't have contact to her skin and, through some kind of miracle, Ryo rushed away from the greenery with those speculations.

Her theory was proven right, pinnacles of satisfaction and relief radiating off her. But it wouldn't stay like this. Of course it wouldn't.

As soon as she glanced towards her feet that had once again started to tickle she froze, lashes flicking apart and a squeak of surprise slipping past her lips. Ryo was standing on top of wood and wood was, indeed, a plant.

Just like the futon was made out of cotton.

Nothing but air stuttered off the tip of her tongue as she continued in a futile effort to steady the heartbeat that pounded relentlessly in her rib cage. Then, she lowered herself into the horrendous storm of overthinking every possible way events would resume, aware of the little sprouts of green growing beneath her. If this would transpire like before, it would only be a matter of seconds until a nearly titanious sycamore tree would crush the house's roof. She searched hectically for some kind of saving grace – a stone slap or anything of that sort.

In this moment, one of the fusuma lashed apart, granting Asuma Sarutobi entrance into the chaos. He had just arrived back home after his father had summoned him to his office, but never did he imagine seeing a chaos similar to this. In lieu, it only became worse when the small, frantic ball of white decided to jump on him.

* * *

"So you cannot remember what happened?" the old Kage queried, stroking his goatee in a pensive mood.

"That's not exactly the… correct way to name it. Rather, there was nothing worth elaborating on."

Inoichi was sick and he was tired. But there wasn't a chance – not even a feasibility – to return to resting. The village was in potential danger; and as exaggerated as it might appear, the harmless-appearing girl was no less than an absolute riddle. Uncalled-for complaints were to remain inhumed in ninjas' thoughts. Regardless of the physical strain it put on his body, he was more than contented with the Hokage discussing the enigma with him. He more than preferred his leader's urge to include him than thousands over thousands of intoned apologies that would only ricochet in his skull like a baby rattle.

At his utterance, Hiruzen's lips pursed. "Nothing to elaborate on."

Inoichi, with all the willpower he was able to muster up, nodded. "It was similar to a Genjustu. Whatever justu had been casted unto her mind was affecting all of my senses, it changed my emotions according to its preference," Inoichi intoned, but he was relentless. "It was not a Genjustu. Definitely."

The Hokage raised his eyebrows, not used to the confidant ways of Inoichi. While he was in fact a determined person blessed with the Will of Fire, he was usually calm and collected.

"Is this certain?"

"I'm more than assured, Lord Hokage. My technique could have cancelled any Genjustu restricting the mind. Besides, I wouldn't be lying here if it would have been a simple illusion," Inoichi finished, chuckling weakly in conclusion. It was getting late, the drugs that encompassed his veins wearing numb and allowing his eyelids to grow heavy.

Outside, a satin blanket of darkness reigned the sky. There was no fleck of white being seen as all the stars were buried beneath flocculent clouds. Yet, the lanterns outside illuminated paths of the miniature park – and the sycamore standing in the middle of it.

"Ryo might just be an experiment of the Hashirama Cells project."

Inoichi's eyes snapped open, having not expected such a surprising utterance. He was, of course, aware of the experiments the Leaf had done in secret; after all, he was the head to the Analysis Team. He had never understood why the council had wanted to continue the experiments after children died… neither could he forget that there was nothing he could have done; his voice was irrevalant it matters of such calibre.

Hiruzen casted his stare of burning ash towards the ground, letting his thought conquer his head. It felt like an overwhelming puzzle that had thousand of pieces but each partaking in an other puzzle. None of the pieces they had collected so far seemed to fit: for one, her sudden appearance in the village. How could she appear without any kind of alarm being set off? If she was an old experiment of the Leaf, where had she been the whole duration of the time in between the end of the project and now? If she really was an accomplice of Orochimaru, then what use did she have to him without her memories? And why did it feel like they knew her?

Sighing, the Hokage raised himself up, striding towards the door he had previously passed through. This was the exact moment exhaustion caught up to Inoichi, a dreamless sleep having captured his mind. Hiruzen felt guilty for straining the Yamanaka man to such lengths, but it couldn't be helped.

Regardless of his previous plans, he would not return home this night. Instead, he'd have to ponder about the various events that could be set off should the girl remain in Konoha: for one thing was certain.

They would not be able to throw her out.

* * *

At the time Ryo didn't know the anxiousness pooling in her gut was unnecessary.

"…Ryo? What exactly happened to… this?"

But the girl didn't respond. She had arranged herself on top of his shoulders, staying still like a statue and unyielding to let his head out of her clutch. As he tilted his head slightly upwards, he saw that her gleaming orbs took more interest in the floor than what he had said; but his attention lay there as well – anyone's would have.

"It was an… accident…" she muttered after a few moments had passed. Just as he was about to crouch down to let her stand on her own, she tucked at his hair rather harshly. "Wait! N-Not yet!" Ryo yelped.

"Why, wha-"

"That happened! I was just standing there and it suddenly had begun to grow and I have no idea how or why but it really was just an accident and I swear that I didn't do it on purpo-"

Through all her rambling, her cheeks erupted into a blush pinker than any cherry blossom and she decided to keep her mouth shut after feeling a lump in her still-dry throat.

* * *

A fresh coat of snow brightly embellished the usually dusty and gravelly streets. It wasn't too cold, but a crisp breeze still managed to turn Ryo's nose numb and force her fingers to retreat into the wooly warmth of Asuma's locks. Previously, she had discovered that the vest worn by him was not made of anything related to plant life (or the top layer of it anyways). He had chosen to carry her after letting her use the bathroom, deeming it safer to prevent any possibility of her disappearing.

She certainly seemed to enjoy it, though.

He sucked in a curt laugh and soon a breath of relief was breaching the air, his body having found relaxation from the overwrought sensation that had locked into his bones by her moreless surprise attack.

Pacing briskly down the street, he effectively dodged every kind of soul that could catch a glance of the white ball of awkwardness inhabiting his back. Wispy, little flakes of cotton floated quite leisurely from the sky and enveloped every surface into a crisp, white blanket.

They (rather Asuma) had decided to cast their concerns aside and nonchalantly agreed to worry about their jungle-inhabited house later.

"You know, you remind me of my nephew quite a bit."

Ryo quirked an eyebrow at this, still not completely adapted to Asuma's relaxed way of talking. It reassured her, however, that she wasn't seen as a life threatening specimen anymore.

"How so?"

A laugh escaped his mouth once again, "He'd cling to my head the same way you do."

"And how old is he?"

"Eight."

He felt her figure slouching against his back, hearing her muttering a discouraged "O _h, Joy_ ". This only earned the pair another laugh, clouds of fog coming of their mouth like an erupting volcano.

* * *

"Lord Hokage, you want me to train someone? A survivor of the experiments, nonetheless?"

"It's only theories, but it's our best so far. And yes, you are the only one capable of teaching her," the Hokage confirmed his worries. The usual calm and stoic Anbu had lost his composure entirely after having received such an absurd request.

He was an Anbu, not a teacher. Neither did he have the experience nor the proper knowledge to teach specifically the Wood Release.

"There is one complication, however. Danzo must under no circumstances learn of her existence, Tenzo. If so, she might just find herself involved under a teacher no one would appreciate."

* * *

 _ **In response to the reviews:**_

 _ **~Narulove:**_

 _ **Thank you so much! That's a very sweet thing to say~**_

 _ **I'm glad that Ino was not OOC at all... I finally understand why authors tend to be worried about it... and it's Hiruzen. His theories are of course superior lmao. Keep healthy my little cinnamon roll~**_

 _ **~Jimin:**_

 _ **I sure hope it's cool, but I'm of course more than glad that you like it! And... it'll be revealed soon~**_

 _ **~Anon:**_

 _ **Heeeeeerreeeee you go!**_

 **Now... Super late chapter, I know, but _I_ finished it on time. My dearest beta-reader was on holidays and I didn't want to annoy her with reading my chappie (which I did nonetheless... luv u '-'). As an apology, she helped me with a new summery which is thousands of times better than the sucky old one. The new chapter should be up in a few days but, this time, I won't promise anything. After all, who knows what else might happen... Please leave a review and see you soon my cinnamon rolls!  
**

 _ **Toony - 소련**_


	6. Chapter 6 - Alexithymia

龍

 **ALEXITHYMIA**

龍

* * *

"You must be feeling overwhelmed, aren't you?"

Ryo's dark fudge eyes wandered off from the colourful stands littering the side of the street, her mind digesting his rather broad question.

Her position had not been abandoned as she was still occupying his back, her arms gently embracing his neck for support. A shawl had been given to her as a weapon against the cloaking draft but the seeping winds urged Ryo to keep her face hidden; however, it would get brushed off out of petulant stubbornness to see the snowflakes that glittered like diamonds. Then, the minute she moved her head, the same draft hit her face and making her bury her head deeper into Asuma's vest. Thankfully, the cover of the flak jacket seemed to be made from chemical material.

Of course, this was seen as a prevention from harmful poisons or similar weapons but, for Ryo, it was a rather serendipitous encounter.

His utterance had lingered in his mind for quite some while; after all, she appeared to have been quite collected during the whole ordeal. Even when Inoichi had to be transported to the hospital, she had calmed down quickly after the initial shock. It was rather surprising that she hadn't blamed herself for it, as children have a tendency to disregard any kind of logical thoughts.

She might also just be incredible at hiding her emotions.

Snow was still feathering from the sky in fashion to powdered sugar, coating roofs and clinging to fur hoods. Quite a beautiful sight, yet her face insisted on nuzzling in the crook of his neck. It was a relief that she was starting to feel comfortable around him – being the only person she could be with for the time being – but, as a ninja, he couldn't be yet; similarly, the girl found his presence to be delightfully tranquil and calm, contemplating that it must always be a pleasure to have the young Sarutobi around.

"It is actually rather complicated right now to really know how I should act… and how I should react to things," she explained, her voice muffled through the curtain of hair fanning in front of her. Tucking a lock behind her ear, Asuma swayed her attention back onto the road.

"How you 'should' act?", he queried, urging her to elaborate. Feeling her nod from the dip of his shoulder, she did as requested, "It's confusing if you don't know how you yourself would normally react to something. I guess that I lost my personality more or less along with my memories."

Asuma was unaware of how he should react to her theory, so he was only able to give her a pensive "I see" as a reply. Albeit, she shrugged it off, replying with a small laugh, "I'm happy, though. After all, I've landed in very good hands."

And their way continued in silence, the only thing following them being castings of curious thoughts and the sound of crunching snow ; occasionally, a laugh could be heard from the couple, the man laughing at the girl's delighted expression whenever a bead of water would suddenly thump her square on the forehead.

* * *

He schlepped himself through the hallway with dreariness tugging at his sweaty clothing in the resemblance of branch-like fingers, sinuous grooves of muscle striking an ache every time his foot hit the opposing ground. The dull flak jacket slipped to the floor like the exhaustion that dragged on his limbs like thick, syrupy molasses, balled fists rising to rub the heavy quilt of sleep deprival from his copper-made eyes.

From then on, he would have taken a quick hot shower before he would have fallen into his feathery bed, a dreamless sleep rebooting his mind. After all, a week long mission with short naps in between only had the purpose to keep oneself functional.

However, a ninja's life barely worked like they'd want it to, likewise Tenzo's.

Instead of being enveloped in his warming sheets of cotton, he was standing in front of his Kage, questioning what he could possibly want. His leader knew of his tiring schedule; still, the Anbu demanding for his presence had insisted on the subject being of great importance. For a ninja, sleep was a belittled concern – as it should be.

As Tenzo bowed down before his leader, supporting himself on one knee, the Sarutobi announced, "I deeply apologise to disturb you after you've just completed a long and tenuous mission, but there is a certain topic we must discuss."

The ink that churned in his indolent, murky pupils reflected the old man's figure, slightly expanding. There was nothing but silence, a still, unsettling silence that sticked to every corner of the room as watery streaks of sunlight bathe the boards of oakwood. A small clock sat on the wooden desk, its black numbers being highlighted by the brilliant white that lays behind them, essentially reminding the Wood Style user that it was already late morning despite his team's arrival at around five in the morning. At that time, the world was quiet, the only sound having been the blood rushing through his ears or the steady heart beat thumping in your chest.

Even from inside the office, he could now hear the joyous cries of children playing on the streets and shouts of daily offers from merchants; he had, at least, truly come back to his home that was the most colourful in every describable way.

Also, the Hidden Stone, where his mission had been set, didn't particularly have many trees – or wood for that matter.

If sleep wouldn't grace Tenzo just as it graced thousands of other lives, he might as well prosper in what's unfolding. "It's not an issue. I might have begun resting a few hours later anyways." Obviously, that was a lie as clear as the glass panels shielding the office (which were probably cleaned more often than he took a breath). But he'd have to resume his work; after all, the old saying 'work delayed will be repayed' had a certain truth to it.

Regardless, Hiruzen nodded wistfully. "I want you to train someone."

At his utterance, Tenzo's head shot up, his dull orbs widening in surprise; meanwhile, the Kage's face remained stoic. Yet, he couldn't help but feel rather guilty ones again. He knew that the aftermath of a battle was often more exigent than the actual recumbentibus.

Despite the rules allowing him to do so, Tenzo remained in his kneeling position, not wanting to fly straight into the ointment. After all, he was more than just sleep-deprived and he didn't have any soldier pills left. Who knows what might occur would he attempt to stand up now.

The Hokage was, of course, aware of the fatigue the Anbu before him was revelling in. Hiruzen studied the way the ninja was attempting to conceal his slouched and tired stature, how his eyes flicked to different spaces in the room though he was right in front of him. His gaze lowered to his finger, how Tenzo tugged on it like it was encompassed in a particularly tight finger trap.

He was definitely nervous.

As soon as Tenzo began to realise that he was showing his emotions too openly, essentially bending to his weakened state, he lowered his head once again, omitting his knitted eyebrows. Feeling a resemblance of a hand gently pushing his back, a crackle of ginger fire imbued in his stomach. "I apologise, Lord Hokage. Please pardon my fatigue," the Wood Style user replied formally, his orbs attention having fully consumed from the polished floor and pupils succinct in their expression of interest. "I'd be more than honoured to train someone of your choice."

The Hokage seemed to be contented by his rather laconic reply. "I expected nothing less," he confessed, gazing past Tenzo towards the door. "It appears that our company has arrived as well."

* * *

Her teeth were unable to halt chewing lacerations through her lower lip; not because of the cold – although that was a valid factor, but rather at the mere thought of what the proceeding occurrences might be.

Ryo had, of course, no reason to be nervous. This assumption would have gainsaid all of the Hokage's previous acts of kindness. It made her feel ungrateful – discouraged even – but there was no halting her indelible thoughts; nonetheless, those were still imbuing a slight worry she was almost sweating her very foundation off from.

The sound of crunching snow had already been replaced by the newfound silence of polished floors resonating within her ears. Curious side glances were still directed towards here and, again, Ryo couldn't help but feel out of place.

Just as Asuma was about to open the office door, Ryo allowed a chance to pass some air between her lips and calm how blatantly her heart was ricocheting. The floorboards commenced their squeaking as the door opened in a subtle silence, opposing the obvious noise, and Ryo was subsequently pleased by the sheets of warm air cloaking we skin.

In lieu of greeting the Hokage with a welcoming and friendly simper, her eyes divagated towards the inconnu standing blatantly close to him. Confounded by this, her eyebrows creased slightly; Ryo's peaked interest was reflecting in her irises in resemblance to the one brewing in the man's ginger orbs. She saw Asuma nodding at him in a still but friendly greeting, the person following his movement while remaining rooted to the ground.

Apparently, Ryo noted, the ninja (he was obviously one, judging from the gleaming head guard donning the Leaf's emblem) had neither received a mission nor delivered a report, seeing how he didn't appear to be leaving anytime soon. It seemed as if he'd be getting involved in her rather peculiar situation – Ryo was unsure whether that should be regarded as bad or not.

Hiruzen raised himself, smiling warmly at the two arrivals as the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Good noon," he welcomed them, voice as gruff and inviting as always. "Let's take a seat first, shall we?"

When Asuma crouched down for Ryo to hop of his back, her limbs remained woven around his torso like vines encompassing a twig. "I don't think that's a very good idea," she laughed weakly, her chest stiffening as her ears turned as red as the colour gracing the Kage's hat. "That's wood."

Asuma blinked, once, twice, before striding towards one of the many shelves containing various objects of all kinds. Reaching for a white box, Ryo glanced over Asuma's shoulder when he walked towards his fathers desk once again after disregarding the object. In his hand was a pair of bandages that had previously been immured in the first aid kit (how Ryo missed the red cross decorating the front was beyond her knowledge).

He let her down on one of the chairs – both delighted when it didn't seem to react to her hazardous and deleterious ability – and Ryo worked on binding her feet as thoroughly as possible; meanwhile, she admired the eutaxy the ninja seemed to harbour… a certain degree that probably came with being related to a Hidden Village's Kage.

* * *

As the girl with the messy, porcelain white mane (which almost appeared to neglect a hairbrush) was in the process of swathing her lower legs in the soft gauze, any desire to fall into a deep slumber had long been erased from Tenzo's interest; instead, a trail of thoughts was latching onto his consciousness while the girl seemed to be more than occupied with rubbing her hands along her cold cheeks in an effort to warm them up.

The floors were obviously made of wood, and it seemed useless to point this out. So why did she?

And why would there be the need to compress her legs though they weren't bruised in any way?

 _Just what was the deal with her?_

As the Hokage's words commenced, Tenzo disregarded his maudlin thoughts; his troubles were bound to unravel anyways. "Did something occur that I should be aware of?" he queried his son, a nonce clearly flying above them as if it was bound to a string. Asuma replied with a laugh, his eyes forming half moons as his hand found its way to his neck, "Nothing major, we can worry about that later."

His father crooked an eyebrow before disregarding his interest; if there would have been an immediate occurrence to speak off, Asuma would have certainly spoken of it.

"I see… Ryo, I'd like to introduce someone to you," said person's head perked up, her, Ryo's, eyes shining with curiosity. Tenzo took a step forward as his leader gestured to him with an open hand, urging him to introduce himself.

* * *

"You can call me Yamato," he spoke resolutely, opposing to Ryo's tone that was lined with curiosity. "I'm Ryo. It's nice to meet you." Taking a moment to ponder, she gave him a smile; his disheveled hair and soft, teddy bear brown eyes awoke a particular empathy in her, one she was unable to describe with words.

The seconds that drawled around her like the feathery snow flakes scrolling down the windows as drops, melted from the sheer temperature the heaters gave off, made Ryo feel slightly antsy from the facts that seemed to swarm around Tenzo like fireflies in a plain.

Did the Hokage introduce him to her because they had connections? Does he know something concerning her? Or was the reason something entirely else?

Ryo flourished with the idea of him even being relate to her, a childish joy exploding in her stomach; albeit, those fluttering butterflies soon transformed into moths when she realised that that chance was rather slim as the Sarutobi would have mentioned it earlier. However, a slim chance could still become safe future, she mused lightly.

Finally, the old Kage inaugurated the situation to Tenzo, Asuma occasionally supporting the elaboration with his own facts. He spoke of the first day: when she was found under mysterious circumstances and the justu that might hinder her memories from finding the surface – including Inoichi's rather bizarre accident. They commenced on telling the occurrences of the following day: the discussions in the Hidden Lotus and the theory behind the ability.

In conclusion, the Kage mentioned his musings of Ryo and possible to the late experiments held by the Village, surprising even her. Neither has she been aware of those assumptions the old man harboured, nor of the experiments the Village once held.

The ninja's expression never faltered, nodding when he seemed to deem it right, brows never rising in blunt surprise and hands not wavering from the sides if his body.

It impressed Ryo. It impressed her how nonchalant he could appear, as if he was uninterested in the whole conversation and only bothered to listen because the Kage himself was involved. She was aware, of course, that the shinobi's hidden interest was opposing his detached attitude: everyone's would with a case like hers.

A thick and ruminative silence hang above them, so silent you're almost able to listen to the others' contemplations over the pensive mood. Hiruzen wanted to let Tenzo some time to reorganise his thoughts, it seemed. While Ryo was still unaware of the reasons behind his involvement, she knew that the Kage would reveal it in due time; still, there had to be something about him that made him relevant to her situation.

This train of thoughts brought Ryo back unto the subject of the previously mentioned experiments. Anxiousness expanded in her chest, her throat closing itself as if it was trying to restrict her from further querying which made her swallow back lumps of nervousness.

While Ryo did trust the two Sarutobi men – not on the level where she would naïvely lay her life in their hands, more on the level of trusting their actions to be legitimated and not cromulent – but her mind remained insouciant about the experiments.

After meticulous paralogizing, Ryo had noted that her ability was similar to the legendary Wood Release of the First Hokage Hashirama Senju. If remembered correctly, it hadn't been a bloodline limit but, rather, an ability kept to oneself. It was more than reasonable that all the nations seemed to be more than keen on getting their claws on it, like a hoard of wild animals.

The experiments the Kage mentioned, were they revolving around the fabled Wood Release?

Vilipending it nugatory for the time being, Ryo left her bustling thoughts and focused once more on the serene ninja as he finally began quizzing the Hokage on the complex elaboration.

"So you assume that she is an experiment?" he implored resolutely, his tone implying nothing but professionalism.

Just as the Hokage was about to reply, a callopean knock resounded from the door around the room and halted the occupants' actions. Ryo swivelled in her chair while Asuma regarded the noise with furrowed eyebrows; in a similar manner, Tenzo's unwavering stare into the apparent nothingness swam to the door in suspicion.

Ryo wasn't able to move due to the stiffness that enveloped her bones. Yet, she couldn't grasp why the tension escalated so strikingly that it alone could bring flowers to wilt.

It wasn't like any real crime had occurred, unless a knock on the door could be seen as one. But Ryo knew better than wondering about the ever ongoing guard of ninja (especially those who have most likely encountered the last war) and thought to disregard her curiosity as the Kage would have alarmed them if there would have been a rather noisy person near.

However, the old Sarutobi rose in a very leisurely pace from his chair and caught the two ninjas' attention with his words of relief. "It's just a secretary; there is no need to become anxious," he uttered, before permitting the person to enter with a quick "come in!".

"Lord Hokage, the academy students are ready. Their teacher, Gokuboku Saito, had already been asking for your arrival," the secretary spoke after she had pushed the door ajar with blunt apathy. While on of her hand's fingers was occupied with tabbing the clipboard gathered in her arm, the monotonous sound echoing in resemblance to a still tunnel, the other was loosely wrapped around the metal of the door's handle, so loose as if wanting to reduce the stingy smell of nickel that would otherwise remain afterwards.

"Thank you, Erina. I'll be on my way then," he replied, excusing the rather passive secretary. Ryo couldn't help but wonder if he'd really leave her without further instructions in the hands of a ninja she had (probably) never met before – even Asuma, who had told her beforehand that he'd have a mission to attend. She was of course aware that he had important duties as the Kage of the most populated Hidden Village and that she had already occupied a lot of spaces on his overflowing schedule, but she couldn't help but feel slightly lost.

Ryo felt – with huge disdain – rather childish bubbles of bitterness growing in her stomach.

"I wish you good luck," were the Kage's departing words as he left towards his destination, leaving Ryo to turn into Asuma's direction. She queried, trying to forget her bubbling bitterness, "You'll have a mission to go to. What will I do in that time?"

As be reached for a lighter, a cigarette already encompassed between his lips, he regarded her slightly puffed and freckled cheeks with a loud, doglike laugh. "You will be training with Ten-Yamato."

Ryo blinked slightly, noticing his abrupt stumbling of words; however, she disregarded those thoughts, despite the particularly annoying intrigue nagging at her mind, and pushing her messy locks out of her face. "I will?"

"Hm."

"And why?"

At this, he raised his eyebrows slightly, his rich coffee orbs still focused on his cigarette. Surprised at her rude question (though she already seemed to realise it, judging from the sideways glance towards his acquaintance), he glanced towards Tenzo shortly, not at all surprised to see his stone hard expression.

"Because Yamato is the only person who will be able to help you with your ability," he began, "He has the wood sty–" Asuma stopped abruptly, the clock catching his attention.

He stood up and strided towards the door in a fast pace, hastily shouting before leaving, "Have fun! And while you're on it, get Ryo some lunch please."

Both parties appeared to be rather dumbfounded by this.

* * *

 ** _In response to the guest-reviews:_**

 ** _~Jimin_**

 ** _Ah, it's good to hear from you again! It makes my heart flutter as well every time I see a fluffy Gaara scene. If people continue to write marshmallow stuff like that, you'll have to buy a ouija board to communicate with me xD_**

 ** _~Guest #1_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your sweet support! I miss those side characters every time I read a FF. I still live Naru very much (and he'll of course soon appear, I couldn't live without that lil pumpkin), but Sakura, Sasuke and Kakashi are not the only characters Masashi Kishimoto offered us. And, too be honest, my friend helped me with the aesthetics – I don't have any exercise with it lol. Also, I'm glad you think that Feuillemort is original!_**

 ** _~Guest #2_**

 ** _In glad you look forward to more!_**

 ** _~wow_**

 ** _Dammit! You're all being way too nice xD. When writing emotions, I try to sit down and imagine what I'd feel like. When I'm really sad, for example, I take my pen and paper and reflect on stuff I could compare my melodramatic tendencies to._**

 ** _~Narulove_**

 ** _Welcome back, my cinnamon roll... no problem ;). My friend is one of the reasons he has a greater part. One time I asked her to beta read something I wrote and when I asked her the the day, she told me something similar to, "I'm sorry, but baby Tenzo..." 'face turning giddy' lmao. Anyway, let's dedicate this to her, seeing as I always scold her for forgetting to read my stuff xD_**

 **Sooooooo, it's been long again, hasn't it. I think from now on, just know that I'll probably update within two weeks 'nervous laughter'. Also, we'll finally turn away from the angsty abyss I began with and commence towards the childish land of Naruto Classic (comes with Fluff, Adventure and a lot of Marshmallows!)!**

 **See you soon, my cinnamon rolls!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Shinrin-Yoku

龍

 **Shinrin-Yoku**

龍

* * *

"It's quite alright. I couldn't sleep anyways."

Feeling a tiny surge of heat igniting in her torso, Ryo regarded Tenzo with a stare that didn't have the need to voice its meaning; one wouldn't have to look twice to notice the accusation towards the Wood Style user that he was lying. And his utterance had indeed been a lie; yet, Tenzo regarded her disbelieving stare with apathetic eyes, deeming it certain that she would soon become malleable to her positive emotions.

She would, especially with the place they were approaching gradually.

Despite the frosty drafts that had the wondrous ability of making itself known even under the heaviest layers of down, people idly bustled around the streets and could be seen conversing at the most vivid of shops and stands. The effect of the sun's position, it being already noon and time for lunch to be eaten, was apparent in the mass made up of non-ninjas and Genin, all looking for a warming place to get a steaming meal in their secluded groups of co-workers. The liveliness present in the village was being reflected by the number of young children that pranced about and ran after each other with bubbly laughter, the occasional snowball finding its way in someone else's. Faint smiles trailed after them, Tenzo's included.

It contented him, knowing that his home was in a state of peace and happiness.

As much as Ryo wanted to prevail her stubbornness, she couldn't help but feel enchanted by the villages charm once again. From the glass panels that filtered the sun's golden ribbons through the artistically crafted ice flakes and the soft blankets of glistening snow that painted the asphalts, to all of those small stores that appeared to make food of all kinds.

So far, Tenzo had been comparatively perplexed how… _pouty_ , for a lack of better word, she had handled their whole situation.

First and foremost, she had stared completely flabbergasted when Asuma had proceeded his exit. Her facial expression had remained in its increduloused state for minutes as if it had been casted in stone. Only after he had cleared his throat several times did she regard him – and in a very unpleasant and cold way.

She had answered in short sentences whenever he'd question her about certain topics, she would hide her face behind her snowy mane for the whole duration of their time and she'd barely say anything herself; except voicing her concerns, that is.

Those concerns were the exact reason behind her moody and petulant behaviour.

As they had left the Hokage Tower, he had began with questions akin to "Should I go back to the compound… you look pretty tired."

Additionally, it left him with a splendid insight into her personality.

It was psychologically unerring that her social awkwardness was more than typical for a person in her case (should that very person land in her dilemma in first place). It was a somewhat conventional morality that dictates behaviour but it (as in the awkwardness, he wasn't fond of the word) was starting to customise to the settings of the Leaf Village.

There wouldn't be a minute of silence between them as she constantly seemed to not resist any urges to greet the owners of several stores or even just the people walking past them… maybe she was looking to heighten her so-far non-existing status on the social hierarchy (not exactly hard to perform with such a sudden appearance).

She was incredibly kind and lighthearted for a child in such a unique melee.

Nonetheless, Ryo was a child, a child who would automatically start to glare with their soft and harmless teddy-bear eyes when questions were being dodged – the exact way her orbs seemed to glance from time to time in his direction, colour such a deep brown it resembled the most luxurious of black teas that only the Land of Tea could find the effort to produce.

And that was about everything that would be worth mentioning regarding her persona; although, he concluded that a lot of pieces of her personality would reveal themselves as soon as she'd come in contact with peers her age (that should be sooner than later).

However, there was another point he was to mention in the report he was going to write later that day. The Hokage was sure to find Ryo's level of awareness of the curious glances she seemed to practically produce around her rather interesting.

Despite her surprisingly kind mansuetude and an almost charming discomfiture, the raised eyebrows and turned heads were more or less justified.

Ryo was, after all, quite attention catching.

Not necessarily because she was ravishing (though, if they'd have the time to give her hair proper grooming, she'd certainly display quite the beauty) but because of her porcelain skin that appeared to have been powdered with the whitest of flours. Her hair, so light the snowflakes almost disappeared within it, didn't help this matter at all. The only natural contrasts that she harboured made her appear eerie, like a forest bathed in rays of alabaster moonlight.

Tenzo casted another quick glance towards the small girl, confirming that there was, indeed, a pout lingering on her lips. A particularly harsh winter wind swept across the street, cracking the stillness lying across his face. But as fast as his eyelids scrunched together from the seeping draft, as quickly did they lighten upon seeing a more than familiar shop sign.

* * *

"Ryo."

The cold and frosty breeze brushed against her face as she walked alongside her companion whose chestnut hut of hair that sheered above round eyes would slightly bounce with every step he'd take, the sound of crunching snow resonating from about every corner of the street.

She hummed lightly, lips unable to open as they have been sealed shut by the freezing temperatures in absolute resemblance to hardened chewing gum; yet, Ryo wouldn't dare to regard him fully and opted to concentrate on how embarrassing and, most importantly, how insolent she had behaved.

"We've arrived. Let's head inside immediately, it'll be warmer there," she heard Yamato's voice utter the most comforting words she had heard so far. Without looking at the shop's sign, Ryo followed after her companion and was immediately hit by a wave of unbelievingly soothing warmth that made her cheeks crackle in delight.

Her hard-as-stone pouting had long since then shattered like thin sheets of ice on a lake and she followed her companion's wave that beckoned her with him to an empty table.

As soon as she took place on a wooden bench opposing Yamato's, he had already begun ordering; apparently, he was just as eager to fill his stomach with a steaming tea as he was. Ryo exhaled contentedly, noting that there were no more ivory plumes to escape her mouth and no more winter currents to produce those.

The _soba-ya_ 'whatever its name was, but it was definitely a soba-serving store judging from all of the customers slurping noodles) held not the same traditional style as is was seen in the Hidden Lotus. Instead, wooden tables with benches were strewn around the open area that was illuminated by the most various types of candles – even the smallest edges were reached by the range of caramel to red-and-hot fire glow. The heat from the lit candles searched for bodies to warm; but outside, snow fell like ashes on the men walking along their business.

It was definitely a perfect choice for a winter's visit.

"I ordered some tea and a portion of soba," Yamato began, his finger rising to unstick the hairs that had been strewn across his face, "considering that we're going to be training later, our stomachs shouldn't be too filled."

Ryo nodded, a short and fleeting humming sound escaped her lips as to let him know that she wasn't 'completely' ignoring him. Tracing patterns into the tables thin sheet of dust while nibbling her lower lip, she began drifting off – hoping, that Yamato wouldn't suddenly commence querying her.

Not that she was trying to ignore him, but something rather strange was plaguing her mind once again.

There were certain reactions he hope to display, reactions she deemed to find appropriate for fitting scenarios. She was more then elated to not be alone in her complex melee; after all, not everyone could say of themselves to have acquaintances (could she call them friends?) on the calibre of a Kage. She had the more than kind Hokage and the calm and charming Asuma, both people she found the will to trust.

So Yamato would be a nice addition to the list of people she wanted to recognise as friends.

A bubbly feeling fizzing in one's stomach, gleeful smiles cracking along lips, heart beating lightly like a soft, rhythmic tabbing, cheeks scrunching up and forming a closed-eyed simper, eyes practically shining with excitement – all of those were feelings and reactions Ryo would have loved to pursue.

In lieu of being excited by her companions presence, she felt almost self-conscious and tense and instead of a colourful and vivid demeanour, she was left with a mood to match the dullest and gloomiest of weathers.

But she knew exactly what stood on the tag of the heavy weights on her shoulders: "don't you dare"… which was more than probably an innuendo hinting towards the fact that she really didn't want to ruin any opportunity to gain comrades.

And, from what she saw up until now, Yamato had the persona of a very nice person.

 _And_ she had practically hit him with a rather rude attitude.

 _And_ she had already ruined her first chance at making a good impression.

Ryo frowned slightly, confused by her relatively confounding train of thought. Up until now, she had been rather still and quiet towards him (she was beyond the level of simple embarrassment) but she didn't want to hear pins drop anymore.

"Uh, Yamato-san?" Ryo readied her voice, but halted herself once she realised that, regarding the fact that they haven't even known of each other's existence up until an hour ago, the opportunity for any kind of base for conversational fillers had not yet arisen. In short, she had no idea whatsoever what she could start a conversation with.

But her companion's interest had already been awoken, his brown cinnamon orbs twinkling in cognisance. So, cringing internally, she took a deep breath, already able to feel the blood rushing to her pale cheeks.

"What's your favourite type of food?"

The question wasn't as embarrassing as Ryo supposed it to be, glad that she didn't feel her heart slamming into her throat. Though her face was definitely holding a light hue of crimson, no one would guess that it came from profound abashment.

But she slowly felt the effects of Yamato's chortling ware her somewhat composed facade quite thin; however, she glossed over doubts and looked straight ahead, concealing any kind of indicator towards her embarrassment (except her peachy cheeks, that is).

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she leaned her head to the side, unconsciously pouting. "Why are you laughing?"

Stopping his gleeful laughter, he explained, "I just didn't expect a question that blunt," he halted as if to quickly catch his thoughts, "It's actually what we're about to get." His eyes lightened up in what appeared to be bland and utter excitement.

Yes, Ryo confirmed, he's indeed a very nice person.

However, she felt another wave of warmth flow across her back to her face, darkening her cheeks once again, and it felt as if something was expanding in her chest. Ryo realised that there was nothing that she could reply to her answered inquiry… nothing.

While she had already overthought even the tiniest of topics, she should definitely improve the habit of what to overthink. Especially if she couldn't answer her own questions.

Resisting the urge to hide herself underneath her sculpture white tangles, a forced laughter made its way past her lips that barely managed to express the delicate tension, "I see… uh, I–"

"Your orders," a waiter suddenly called out, placing a plate of soba in the middle of their table, shortly followed by two bowls of a light brown paste and two cups of tea. As he retreated back to the kitchen, she could have sworn that a halo was looming over his head.

The mellow aroma of the tea that immediately seemed to spread itself in thin ribbons comforted her, almost diminishing the knots in her stomach that she'd made herself. She knew that her initial embarrassment was self-bred and that Yamato probably didn't care about an issue like this.

Gingerly, Ryo placed her still-frosty fingers around the stone cup, sighing in content when it practically felt like it melted all the coldness around her. It was a brief respite from the maelstrom of disturbed atoms colliding in her head. Then, pushing away her self-consciousness into the farthest edge of her mind, she queried, "So you like _Kurumi Soba_ the most?"

She had, of course, instantly recognised the dish; the sienna coloured walnut _mori tzuyu_ , a sauce-like dip, being the top notch give-away.

He shook his head slightly at her question. "Not exactly," Yamato said as he picked up one of the thin buckwheat ropes before dipping them in the sweet sauce, "It's actually walnuts." And it disappeared into his mouth.

* * *

The rest of their snack/lunch/brunch (whatever it was, Ryo really didn't know) had passed with comfortable silence, small inputs of casual conversations fining their way in between.

However, there was one subject laying like a heavy, two-ton weight on her mind; the whole Wood-Style fiasco… if she held the Bloodline Limit in first place.

There were two reasons she had started thinking about it. One, her hand had been dangerously close to one of the plants that had been placed outside the diner, so close her hand had started tingling again as if colonies of ants were marching over her skin. Secondly, Asuma had mentioned that she wasn't the only one who possessed the rare ability (even though one person to possess should already be a rarity). Her soon-to-be Sensei harboured it just as she did, and it confounded her quite a bit.

Nonetheless, she didn't want to pester him about it (as much as she may want to, as much as it was shimmying under her flesh, she would not ask him). It wasn't her business to ask and Yamato would definitely elaborate this matter to Ryo sooner or later.

But no matter how much she would try to keep those thoughts out of her mind, she couldn't slow her thoughts down enough to catch one, couldn't hold on to something hopeful as each memory overrode the next like a disk fragmentation.

She buried her hands deeper into her fluffy pockets (as Yamato realised that it might be of importance to get her at least a thicker piece of clothing) and simpered happily, her peachy cheeks pushing her eyes into half moons. "So, where are we gonna go?" she chided gleefully, surprisingly contented with the situation she was in.

But a shudder (that she was assured didn't come from the drafts) ran over her back as she watched Yamato's lips pulling up in a smile that practically screamed "I know something you don't wanna know".

"We're going to go on a _Shinrin-Yoku_."

She pursed her lips slightly, her brows dragging into an example of confusion. But before she could voice her thoughts, Yamato already began to talk, "Lord Hokage has told me off your problems to control what we believe to be the Wood Style, which is why I'm hear to help you." Ryo fell in step alongside him, nodding now and then. With a short pause, he questioned her, "Due to your memory loss you might not remember, but do you know if you've trained to become a ninja before you've arrived here?"

"I… I think so actually."

She stopped short in her tracks and turned towards Yamato. His expression turned curious when she raised her hand and spread apart her fingers, as if she wanted him to inspect it. "In between my fingers are a lot of white streaks," she began to elaborate her action. And indeed, in each gap were barely noticeable white lines, each fading into the light background of her skin. Yamato's orbs lit up in recognition at what she was implying. "Those seem originate from training with shuriken. You've probably trained as a ninja before," He concluded pensively.

For Ryo however, this simple fact made her heart exude a warmth throughout her entire body, a tender and gleeful feeling enveloping it. Every piece of information for we was like a piece of herself, a piece of who she had once been. And being a ninja didn't sound all so bad for her.

Raising her head, Ryo laughed the most genuine laugh she had managed to make up until now, and she was indeed happy.

No thing could diminish the joy she felt…

…except the promising-but-way-to-scary-smile Yamato had previously sent her way. Who knew what he meant with going on a vacation.

* * *

 **Alright, on time (for me). Let's wrap things up with le reviews!  
**

 **~Guest:**

 **I'm relieved my story isn't hopeless lmao. I've also noticed that, so I'm happy you think so too!**

 **~Narulove:  
**

 **Good seeing you again! There is indeed a hint...**

 **See you soon, cinna buns!**


End file.
